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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27725311">The Equivalence Principle</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanadka/pseuds/kanadka'>kanadka</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowsphere21/pseuds/Shadowsphere21'>Shadowsphere21</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Bisexuality, Dubious Consent, Erotic Horror, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Isolation, Magical Realism, Masturbation, Mind Manipulation, Obsessive Behavior, One-Sided Attraction, Stalking, tfw you study so hard that your coming of age story winds up set in university</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:21:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>47,238</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27725311</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanadka/pseuds/kanadka, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowsphere21/pseuds/Shadowsphere21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ami doesn't settle in as easily as Mamoru at university. With no friends and too much pride to admit defeat, she plunges herself unhealthily into her studies. Mamoru tries to help by giving her one of his stones, without realising it's a Shitennou stone.</p>
<p>Zoisite plagues first her nightmares, then her days. And the more Ami interacts with Zoisite, the more corporeal he becomes.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kino Makoto/Mizuno Ami, Mizuno Ami/Other(s), Mizuno Ami/Zoisite</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Senshi &amp; Shitennou Mini Bang 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. first year</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a fic I've had in my mind for awhile now, so for this year's Senshi &amp; Shitennou Mini Bang challenge with the theme of 'red', I'm absolutely delighted to finally be able to give it form. This year, I was paired with the absolutely wonderful, crazy talented, and awesomely chill Shadowsphere21, who's produced so much astounding work. You can find it hiding here and there in the text below, or you can go <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27938878"><b>here</b></a> and see it all in one place!!</p>
<p>Thank you as well to our modly wonders at <a href="https://ssminibang.tumblr.com/">ssminibang @ tumblr</a> for the great job they did, and thanks also to Charlie and another wonderful beta for the speediest beta services :D</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    
  </p>
</div><p>When Ami lands, there isn't anything really out of the ordinary. There's a train into the city (and also a lot of busses; North America does seem to love its cars and roads), there's people everywhere, it's an airport (and an airport is an airport is an airport) - it <em>could</em> be Tokyo. It's a little colder, but it could be Tokyo.</p>
<p>And Mamoru is waiting for her on the other side of the customs gate, which is a huge help. Usagi told her she'd put him up to it - just so Ami could have a friendly face stepping off the plane - but Ami knows it's because Usagi worries.</p>
<p>They get Ami's two suitcases - all she's brought with her is clothes and a few sentimental things - and make for the city train. And ... and it's little things that jump out. The highways, the glitter of the lake beyond, the shiny waterfront condos and their wild architectures (chrome and glass everywhere), the dotted little houses with no network of wires overhead from streetlamp to streetlamp (they're all underground). The people (English, and Ami's English is good enough to eavesdrop but only a little). Their fashion, their hair styles. Everything is same-but-different.</p>
<p>But Mamoru looks happy, which is a really good sign.</p>
<p>Mamoru has settled, like Ami did, in the downtown region to be close to campus, but he's in a different neighbourhood. His rented flat, as she soon discovers over the next few weeks, is cozy but messy, made out of a tiny old Victorian house that the landlord split into multiple apartments. The floorboards creak and the ceiling is high. He has seven flatmates between his flat and the one downstairs, which means on any given evening, any one of them can be found chilling on the dingy chesterfield on the wooden porch, while few of them actually take the accountability to clean up after themselves. Only Mamoru's room is fastidiously clean. But even so, it's showing its age with badly peeling paint and wallpaper that was never actually chic, and furniture that he's traded for from the local no-cash facebook group. Mamoru tells her he's hoping there are no bedbugs, but there's no guarantees.</p>
<p>Mamoru genuinely seems to like it, for all that it's not his style. Maybe the totally-a-mess, somewhat-chaotic feel is a friendly reminder of Usagi.</p>
<p>Ami, meanwhile, is in the dorms, where there are <em>definitely</em> bedbugs (plastic sheets help a little; campus administration doesn't help at all) and her dormmate Stephanie is... nice, if a little standoffish in a formally polite kind of way...</p>
<p>"Don't touch my shit," says Stephanie.</p>
<p>Wasn't planning to, thinks Ami archly. "Of course not!" says Ami sweetly.</p>
<p>Stephanie doesn't seem to believe her, and doesn't reply.</p>
<p>That ends their conversation right there. Not like it matters. Ami proceeds to while away the day talking to the girls. Mina's got loads to say, and Rei demands pictures.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p><br/>
</p>
</div><p>So Ami spends the first weekend before Frosh Week desperately hoping Mamoru's flatmates actually have that get-together that they boisterously promised; it would be lovely to spend time around someone who isn't quite so cold. Someone personable, someone that strikes a happy medium between 'doesn't get out at all and it's obvious from the conversation' and 'party animal 24/7'.</p>
<p>But they don't, so she spends it walking around a busy milling city, bustling and filled with people that jostle her on the sidewalk, surrounded by conversations she sort of not really understands when she eavesdrops. Feeling more and more alone, and trying to cope with it by texting her real friends, who are an ocean away.</p>
<p>Ami doesn't regret coming to North America, but the thing is...</p>
<p>The thing is, with those American Ivy league schools, they seemed like a great pick when Mamoru was in one of them. When Mamoru told them all he'd be graduating a year early, and had decided on a change of scenery, Ami quickly switched her own application goals to this Canadian school, too.</p>
<p>She feels like she's been terribly obvious about it all. But there were very practical reasons to go here:<br/>
1) it's only pre-med, which matters a little bit less <em>where</em> you go (so long as it's a good school with accreditation where you can get good grades to make your way to keep all your graduate program options open) -<br/>
2) tuition is cheaper north of the border, especially so for international students; in fact, that's probably why Mamoru did it (but cost matters admittedly little to Ami; her mother has ensured there's enough funding for wherever she wanted to study) -<br/>
3) this city is known for its international presence (not like Ami will be spending much time in it, when she'll be in the library most of the time) -<br/>
4) it's probably <em>the</em> best pre-med program in Canada, even if it may not compare to some of the ones in the States, but maybe it would be helpful for Ami to be a big fish in a small pond, instead of a minnow in an ocean in some world-renowned, prestiged institution -</p>
<p>- Ami's been over and down the pros and cons list so many times she had to make two new ones.</p>
<p>There was no clear deciding factor in the pros versus cons on the more logic-based lists. In reality, Ami felt it didn't matter what school she went to, she would just prefer to know someone around.</p>
<p>Ami's never really had a lot of friends. And moving away for university was a big deal for her. Mamoru made it all look so easy! Just follow your dream, follow your ambition, everything else will plunk into place. Lose all your connections? That's okay, you'll make more!</p>
<p>Moving across continents is <em>hard</em>, though, and for the first time Ami had had real friends in Tokyo. Friends she wouldn't just be able to make more of - unless people in Canada knew what a senshi was. And now she's left them all behind. How could she go anywhere else <em>but</em> where at least one person knew her name?</p>
<p>The old concern that she won't make any friends and will be thus completely and utterly alone has reared its ugly face in her again after years of being dormant, and this time, she can't seem to drudge up the equally powerful shield of 'that's fine, I'd rather be alone'. Being so completely alone in Tokyo is one thing. Tokyo's her home city. Being completely alone in a foreign country where you don't speak the language natively is terrifying. Especially when you're only eighteen.</p>
<p>Initially, she thinks the new student orientation events will help, but those hopes are quickly dashed. Even though he has his own orientation special for graduate students, Mamoru promises to go with her - after three days of no connection with her dormmate, Ami has begun to readopt her old sour grapes ways with an <em>I didn't come here to make friends, I came here to learn and study</em> attitude. (And she didn't come to clean, either, and it'd be nice if Stephanie knew that?)</p>
<p>But Mamoru makes a good argument for why friends are good - she might want to know what was covered in lectures if she's sick, she might want study buddies, she will need lab partners. Friendship is what got her through years of senshi service. So Ami goes.</p>
<p>Then an icebreaker activity separates Ami and Mamoru into two different subgroups. And Ami's English isn't bad, it's just... she does feel self conscious about it. It's so formal, and people don't seem to know how to talk to her and think she's stuck up and serious. It's actually the same problem she had in middle school, way back when.</p>
<p>That's all so far away now, but in many ways nothing has changed.</p>
<p>She meets no one, she keeps her head mostly down, and by lunch on the first day everybody is tidily sectioned off into groups without her.</p>
<p>Well. That's fine, Ami didn't come here to make friends, she came here to study. She doesn't go to the rest of Frosh Week, and she assumes neither does Mamoru, who was only doing it for her.</p>
<p>It's a relief when classes begin, and Ami happily throws herself into them.</p>
<p>Planning is one of the best parts of the degree - in first year, first semester, there are only three courses she has to take, which leaves her with two free spots. (She hasn't been able to convince her governing college that she's quite capable of taking a heavier courseload. "Prove yourself first," her governing college recommends, "an overloaded semester is very difficult with our courses". It takes effort not to scoff at them.) The other two courses have to fit certain parameters. Breadth requirements outside her intended major, no prerequisites, first-year level. No significant time commitment (this removes Introductory Film Studies, for example). She picks Anthropology and Bioethics, then jumps ahead in the reading and remains ahead for the rest of the semester, and when her classmates find she's the one who's killing their bell curves, she gets a few odd and almost admirative looks, but no overtures of friendship.</p>
<p>The other three classes have significant lab components. Laboratory work is a lot of fun. Well, it's a find-a-partner free-for-all, and without any friends from frosh week, Ami winds up stuck with a young man who hardly does any work and plays on his phone for three straight hours. Leaves Ami to do all the work which, honestly? Suits her fine.</p>
<p>He doesn't come back the next week. He seems to have dropped the course for something else. Ami's next lab partner is a Taiwanese international student who doesn't speak English as well as Ami does. Oddly, Ami feels a kind of affinity for her. But they don't talk, and unless a shy wave across the lecture hall counts, they're not friends. Their lab reports are graded jointly, and once Ami's new partner gets her first ever 100, she realises she's in safe hands and hardly shows up.</p>
<p>First semester she takes the required five classes. Second semester she immediately applies to take a sixth, because she <em>can</em> handle it. They won't let her take a seventh, not yet. By the end of two semesters, when it's time to declare a major, she's done the research to show that she can probably take two minors <em>and</em> a specialisation if she takes six courses every fall and winter semester, and doesn't skip the summers. This means not going home to Japan for the summer, but it's tempting to follow in Mamoru's footsteps and be done with it all in three years instead of the customary four, which in addition to being efficient, would also be more cost-effective in the long run.</p>
<p>That's the plan, anyway. And if you can't have friends, you may as well have a solid plan.</p>
<p>In the winter semester, she's busy rereading her schedule plan (number ten, now) for the next three years and realises something.</p>
<p>Pre-med students don't just have to keep a good GPA and have high scores on the MCAT standardised test. They also have to have extra-curriculars.</p>
<p>Ami's <em>entire life</em> is school. She didn't go home for Christmas break because she was too busy studying for the next semester. She's barely even had time to text. She's left Usagi on read for two weeks!</p>
<p>"Shit," she says softly to herself. It's warranted! Her whole plan's up in smoke and she's in the library and nobody else is around to hear her, she's allowed a little swearing!</p>
<p>There, that's enough of that. She takes a deep breath and looks up the university clubs for something to join.</p>
<p>It can't be a lot of work, though. She won't let it cut into her studies. That knocks out political advocacy, social justice, community service, and leadership clubs. Shame, those would make her look good on paper, like an intelligent candidate. Social clubs would probably be easiest.</p>
<p>And maybe, thinks Ami quietly to herself, I might meet someone who would be kind, and fun, and a good friend. She keeps looking.</p>
<p>What cinches it is actually luck. The first few weeks of the winter semester, the social clubs and associations send people around to the classes to advertise. They usually go where they know they'll recruit members: cognitive science sends people to the neuroscience and psychology classes, chemistry club sends people to the chem labs, ecology awareness sends people to environmental biology.</p>
<p>"Wake me when the Video Game club sends someone," says a student sitting in the row in front of Ami to a friend of his.</p>
<p>Video games. It's perfect - Ami can sell it off as early programming, computer science, for which she needs a breadth requirement anyway. And she's always been effortlessly good at video games - she remembers the Sailor V game fondly.</p>
<p>So Ami looks them up and tracks them down. Main Arts and Science building, in the basement. A dingy place, when she goes. All boys sitting around a crowded console, nebbish types or skinny types. Some of them won't look her in the eye, and she isn't sure if it's because they don't look anyone in the eye or it's because she's a girl. "Are you lost?" says one zitty fellow in an oversized T-shirt.</p>
<p>"That depends. Do you have the most recent Agents of Castleheart?" asks Ami.</p>
<p>Zitty fellow scoffs and rolls his eyes. "Some girl game? We're more into JRPGs," he says. "You probably don't know what those are."</p>
<p>I'm literally a Japanese person, thinks Ami. Instead she smiles sweetly and says, "Perhaps I would be interested."</p>
<p>Zitty fellow - well, his name is Adam - plays Flight Fantasy Tactics and won't shut up about how it's so much like Game of Thrones for about fifteen minutes until he realises that talking about lore gives Ami time to beat him so soundly that at this rate the Prethorians are going to lose the War of the Flowers before Chapter II even begins. Adam very suddenly changes his tune. So do the rest of the club.</p>
<p>Ami wouldn't say she has friends, exactly. Some of the guys very clearly don't mind her being there - those that don't look her in the eyes are more than okay looking at her breasts, such as they are - and some of the others are simply put out that the "oh cool, girl gamer" novelty became "oh god, she'll destroy us and that hurts our ego". So video game club lasts until about mid-February, when after a week of holiday (the other boys go home, Ami spends it in the library) she returns to the room where video game club meets at the usual time to find it locked.</p>
<p>"Oh yeah, they moved," says someone from the Medieval History club across the hall. "Don't know where to."</p>
<p>Ami gives one of those tight-lipped smiles that she's become very good at and nods, trying to look understanding.</p>
<p>It's not a total loss. Flight Fantasy Tactics has an online server that she can play over her laptop and nobody knows she's a girl there. She only allows herself time to game once a week but... it's fun.</p>
<p>Rei plays now, too, though Ami is convinced it's more a way to keep tabs. But it's so like being back in the arcade with the girls. (Ami wonders how the girls are making out with the old arcade. She should ask, but before she could do so she'd have to answer all the other texts from the girls that she has yet to answer, which have been piling up, and staring at her accusingly.)</p>
<p>And the new people that she meets don't know anything about her, they all just take turns in real time strategy. It's relieving.</p>
<p>These people are the only friends she's made in this city full of people.</p>
<p>And she only plays once every two weeks once Stephanie decides she wants to bring over friends during the one hour Ami allows herself that single bit of joy.</p>
<p>She's doing this on purpose, of course, just like she purposefully doesn't bother to tidy up.</p>
<p>Ami could say something. In fact, Ami wants to say something. And she comes close to saying something one evening when Stephanie's friends are a little too loud and Stephanie is laughing a little too boisterously. But then Ami realises Stephanie's probably drunk, or high, from the smell of her, and it's just easier to go back to the library. Maybe she can get next semester's plan worked out.</p>
<p>A solid plan is better than friends she won't ever meet, anyway.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. summer, after first year</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Thing is, Ami wasn't even going to take this class. Astronomy 101? There's really little she doesn't already know. It fulfils a breadth requirement, though, and it's <em>a</em> course, and it's offered in the summer, and it fits. She doesn't intend to waste her education but an extra credit at the elementary level will open up doors for courses that require second-year status as a prerequisite, which means she can take Astronomy for the first half of the summer, and second-year Chemistry for the second. It works out well. After a few calculations Ami shows that it's probably the best scenario, and unlike the Linguistics course she was eyeing (which fills a different breadth requirement), all the materials are online, which means Ami can do the entire course in the weekend before it even begins.</p><p>That works out very well, because Ami's new dormmate (Stephanie had never truly been studious and has gone home for the summer, and it's doubtful she'll return to the dorms) has a significant other and they like to have fun without warning Ami first.</p><p>Erika, her new dormmate, growls, "What the <em>hell,</em> can't you knock?" The girl below her squeals.</p><p>Ami did, in fact, knock. Erika's partner is very loud. If I'd wanted to see that much skin, thinks Ami primly to herself, I'd go to a damn club. Erika's hand is between her partner's legs and Ami can't see where her fingers are. "Sorry," mutters Ami instead, fire-red and averting her eyes. "I'll just - library - go now."</p><p>"Yeah," says Erika, twisting her wrist back and forth to make the girl below her moan, "you should do that. You're full of bright ideas, nerd."</p><p>Ami has a better time in Astronomy than she would think. Not in the lectures. The lectures are in the big hall, the one that holds a thousand people. The one that isn't air-conditioned. The only advantage is that many of the students don't bother showing up, so Ami isn't stuck pinned between people she can't escape the smell of. But there's nothing they teach in the lectures that she didn't already know.</p><p>It's the tutorials that wind up fun. The teaching assistant is assigned randomly, so Ami ends up with a girl a little taller than she is, with clear blue eyes and long brown hair she usually pulls into a thick braid but on occasion is in a ponytail, bouncy with curls. Ami takes note only because Ami's always been observant, surely.</p><p>And nobody else in the tutorial seems to be paying attention to anything, and people come less and less as lectures march on. So three weeks in, it's just Ami and a few others. They breeze through the assigned material in half the time, and then it's Ami's turn to ask whatever questions she wants. And the TA blooms with life. Novae, quasars, high-energy physics, Feynman diagrams, the sparkle of recombination, the thrill of reionisation, the untested waters of inflationary scalar fields. Ami walks out of every class riveted, pulsing with energy and tells herself it's because of how impassioned the TA is that she makes the subject come alive. And advanced knowledge is usually what interests Ami!</p><p>And it's just -</p><p>It's just so nice to have someone who she can talk to, someone who seems kind and thoughtful and funny. Someone who smells nice and beams wide. Someone who makes her wish they could hang out, because they aren't really friends, of course, because she's Ami's TA. And you can't really be friends with a student. But Ami tells herself that if things were different and Ami weren't a student, maybe she'd finally have what she's been missing for an entire year: basic platonic human connection. And they could maybe hang out at a cafe the way Ami used to with the other girls, with Mina, Rei, Usagi, Makoto. The TA could tell Ami all about her research and her graduate studies and Ami would listen, rapt, hooked on every word.</p><p>Ami manages to delude herself about her fantasies all the way to midterm review.</p><p>Midterm review there are more people, because the 90% of the class that hasn't shown up to tutorials has suddenly realised the exam will count for 35% of their final grade. "Can I have a volunteer?" asks the TA. Nobody raises their hand.</p><p>Ami, who read this chapter weeks ago but briefed herself on the material an hour ago just in case, already knows what the TA is going to demonstrate. She puts up her hand, since no one else will.</p><p>"C'mon up here with me," beckons the TA, sweet and charming, and Ami smiles.</p><p>Then the TA grasps Ami's two hands in hers with a strong firm grip and whirls her around. It's to show centripetal motion and gravitational pull on a smaller body (Ami's, since the TA is built like a valkyrie, muscular arms for a girl with well-defined biceps). The TA tugs her in close and grips her and they spin, and Ami feels a different pull from the second the TA's soft, smooth hands touch hers. Ami is weak-kneed, she's shivery... her heart lurches in her chest and she can't breathe for a sacred moment. The TA's eyes have never looked so beautifully clear, an ocean blue. Ami can't look away.</p><p>If I crumbled, thinks Ami, would she wrap her arm around my waist to tug me back up? Would she tuck me in close? Ami inhales sharply, suddenly out of breath, and all she can smell is the TA's practical deodorant, sweet and powdery.</p><p>"Perfect!" chirps the TA. She releases Ami and somehow, Ami manages to stumble dizzily back to her seat. "Haha, sorry about that!"</p><p>"It's okay," says Ami.</p><p>It's not okay at all.</p><p>Ami pays no attention for the rest of the session, and it doesn't matter that she already knows the material. It does matter because she's concentrating as hard as she can not to get caught staring at the TA. Her thighs. Her waist, her arms. The way her elegant posture makes the cut of her shirt cling to the small of her back. The way her hair bounces and locks tumble gracefully in the valley between her mountain range breasts like rich waterfall. Ami is dry-mouthed and there is a void ache between her thighs she cannot ignore.</p><p>It takes her two more tutorials before Ami accepts that this heart-stopping pounding feeling is attraction.</p><p>(In her defence, it's never felt quite like this before!)</p><p>Astronomy very quickly conflagrates the focus of her academic world. Even the biology courses she's taking for her degree take a back-seat, and it doesn't much matter, because she's read all that material two weeks in advance. She gives them the basic minimum of attention and eventually the courses catch up with her. Ami realises the day before one of her lab days she hasn't read the prelab material, and that's when she knows she's got a problem. Oh, sure, she still has time. Ami's assigned lab partner never reads the material and he's doing fine. There's still three hours to finish the prelab calculations before the library closes and Ami has to face bitter, snarling Erika again. It's more the principle of the thing. Even though Ami is still ahead of other students, Ami's been ahead all semester long relative to her usual standard, and this is what has set her behind. Fantasising about a girl she can't have.</p><p>Because the TA can't date students and Ami - Ami doesn't even know if she likes girls - Ami doesn't even know if <em>Ami</em> likes girls! This all seems so new and wild, and can it really be?</p><p>Ami dares to think it later that night in bed. What if I kissed her? Just to see if it really is attraction.</p><p>But Ami can't make her mind conceive of breaking the rules that bad.</p><p>Astronomy 101's exam passes and the last time Ami sees the TA is at the exam. The TA smiles down at her as she makes the rounds through the rows of desks. It's a bland, vacant smile, because the TA is trying not to look at Ami's answers and give anything away, and Ami too is trying not to give anything away.</p><p>Ami's definitely not signing up for Astronomy 102 now. Linguistics next semester. Hopefully the TA's unattractive.</p><p>--</p><p>"You know, I can't help but notice that we don't really talk all that much," says Michiru.</p><p>Ami feels guilty. She knows she hasn't been in contact with anyone and not being in contact for longer only makes her feel guiltier. But she didn't ask Michiru for a call because she wanted to feel guilty. She asked Michiru for a call because writing these words in a text seemed to make them more real. This way if it all goes south Ami can pretend the conversation never happened, and she's pretty sure Michiru would grant her that peace of mind, too. "When did you know," Ami asks. "That you liked girls?"</p><p>Michiru's slender eyebrows lift in mild astonishment, and then frown as she thinks. "I've always known," says Michiru. "I guess...I guess my first crush was in third grade. Her name was Sonoko. She had short blonde hair." She smiles. "Guess I have a type."</p><p>Ami is quiet.</p><p>"There's someone, isn't there," guesses Michiru.</p><p>"I don't know," says Ami. "Not - serious. It's -" she takes in a deeper breath - "she's my TA."</p><p>"Tell me about her," Michiru offers.</p><p>"She's got this long thick curly hair, and she's taller than me - not that that means much - she exclusively wears dresses - and she's - she's really passionate about what she teaches. I guess I value that, I'd value that for anyone."</p><p>"And she's so pretty she makes you question your sexuality," adds Michiru. Ami flushes hot. "It's okay, it's okay to do it."</p><p>"She's my TA," says Ami.</p><p>"Yeah, well - slightly less okay, you're right. Because of that, you'll want to wait a semester. But there's no harm in looking, in thinking, if you're not creepy about it?" Ami shakes her head super fast. She would <em>never</em>.</p><p>"Hey, thanks for trusting me with this," says Michiru. "I know it's not easy. I know from experience."</p><p>"It's not that I don't trust the others," says Ami, "but..."</p><p>"But it's different," says Michiru. "With me." And that's always been true. Both Ami and Michiru are clever, both devoted to their course of study, both have a strange, supernatural affinity for water, both hide passion instead of putting it on show. Michiru grins. "I'm flattered, really."</p><p>"Mina would have questions," Ami supposes. "And Rei wouldn't understand, I don't think, and Usagi - well, Usagi might get it. But Usagi's my oldest friend, I can't... I can't make myself risk it."</p><p>"And Makoto?"</p><p>Ami flushes again. "I couldn't," she says quietly.</p><p>"Ah," says Michiru, "so it's like that."</p><p>"It's not!" Ami says. "It's - it's just, just her. No other girls. I don't think. It's not Makoto too, because I'd never, with the group -" Though that sounds rude to say to Michiru, since Haruka <em>is</em> in the group.</p><p>"Well," says Michiru. "Maybe it's just her. Maybe it's a few other girls. If you want to know which it is, did you try watching anything?"</p><p>This confuses her. Watching what?</p><p>"You know," says Michiru. She blushes a little bit, with a coy smile. "Anything. Something. Girls."</p><p>"Watching, like..."</p><p>"Like porn, Ami," says Michiru.</p><p>Ami is beet red. Horrified, she shakes her head. "I can't," she says.</p><p>"Well, I mean, you <em>could</em>. It's really not difficult, a stupid amount of the world does it, you're hardly alone," says Michiru. "It'd be one way to figure out who you're looking at. Y'know?"</p><p>But Ami is too mortified at even the prospect. "I don't want to talk about that," she says.</p><p>So they don't.</p><p>When would Ami do such a thing, anyway? Erika is <em>always</em> there, there's no privacy. Where else would she feel comfortable enough for that? In the library? Absolutely not!</p><p>(But it sticks in her head anyway. And the Internet has ads everywhere that can't be avoided, hot singles in your area, that silly sort of thing. Not pornographic but suggestive. Maybe it's just this one girl. Maybe it's other girls. One girl has curly brown hair and blue eyes and is probably digitally manipulated to look so buxom, but as she preens in the ad, Ami feels a lurch in her belly. Too guilty, she turns away.)</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. second year</h2></a>
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    <p>Summers in this city are wretched hot and seep into September in a way that almost remind Ami of home. Who would have thought Canada could be <em>this</em> hot? Must be the humidity and the nearby lake. The dorms don't have air conditioning, but the library does.</p><p>Ami has spent so much time there (picking courses, reading next year's syllabus, testing herself, picking more courses, lather-rinse-repeat) that the months in the latter half of the semester have already passed and before she knows it, Mamoru is returning from his summer break back home in Japan. Graduate students don't get a full four months - graduate students don't get much of anything, judging from Mamoru's texts - but they do get the flexibility of picking whenever you want to go if the timing between exams works out. So Mamoru returns on a sunny day in early September, after Ami's summer exams conclude and before her next courses begin.</p><p>&lt;Let's go for dim sum,&gt; Mamoru writes. He texts back with a recommendation for the nicest waterfront Cantonese place, and Ami has no reasons to decline.</p><p>It's unbelievably wonderful to see him. Ami is withholding tears as she approaches his table. Not long after, a waiter drops off a pot of tea. Ami pours, leaping on something to do even though Mamoru's the one who invited her. "You found the place okay?" Mamoru asks, as the carts slowly start rolling by.</p><p>"Oh, yes," blurts Ami. She holds up her phone and the notes she took, grinning like a madman.</p><p>"You're not familiar with the area?" Mamoru asks.</p><p>Ami shakes her head.</p><p>"Huh," says Mamoru. "But you've been here all summer. Spending it in Koreatown? Food's familiar, I get it. And the park nearby's nice. Good for picnics."</p><p>"Too hot," says Ami.</p><p>"Ice cream in the Annex?"</p><p>"I got busy, never made it down." Her smile is beginning to fracture. She pulls the corners of her lips up higher like she's hoisting up loose trousers she forgot to belt. Please don't notice my shame, she thinks.</p><p>"Movie theatre? It's air-conditioned. And a block from your place."</p><p>"You know I've never been much on movies," she says.</p><p>But not for nothing did Mamoru get into graduate school. He sets down the little cup of tea and heaves a sigh. "Ami, when was the last time you left the university?"</p><p><em>Damn</em> him. Damn his perception and damn that she didn't come prepared for this, she should have known! She should have researched something online. Fifty thousand travel blogs would've told her enough about the city's little individual pockets, but she was too busy reading up on a Linguistics class she didn't even take because she took an Astronomy course whose contents she already knew but which she stuck around for <em>because the TA was cute</em>. This is a slip that unprepared people make, not Ami. She can't keep slipping. She <em>will</em> do better.</p><p>"It's fine," says Ami, smiling, trying to be covert. Trying to distract. "What do you think about the xiaorongbao? Oh - and how was everybody?"</p><p>"You'd know if you checked in with them more often," says Mamoru. It isn't entirely nice of him. He's making a point of it, now; Ami recognises his tone.</p><p>So Ami smiles and pretends she doesn't hear it. "I'm sure Minako would love it if I were on my phone as often as she's on hers, but I just can't afford that kind of thing with school," she says. "You know how it is. You should, anyway, I imagine you've been busy catching up on studies after your vacation." Ami can be polite-not-polite too.</p><p>"Right," says Mamoru. He does eventually try the xiaorongbao. "What are you planning to do for your birthday? It's coming up, isn't it?"</p><p>Ami can feel the muscular flicker on her lower lip, betraying her. She ignores it. "School will already be in session," she says, a little tremulous. "It's not that important."</p><p>Mamoru puts down his utensils and drains his tea. When Ami moves to refill it he covers it with his hand. "Okay," he says. "For the next hour, we're going to talk about anything that's <em>not</em> school, got it?"</p><p>Ami is silent. She puts the teapot down, feeling foiled. Ami doesn't want to talk about anything that isn't school. Ami doesn't have anything to talk about that isn't school. Ami hasn't even been playing Flight Fantasy Tactics online because she has to be in the library so much because Erika is <em>always there</em>, messing up their dorm.</p><p>"Do you even <em>like</em> it here in Toronto," asks Mamoru. "I know sometimes - people can be a little, well. They're not Japanese. What do you think about your friends?"</p><p>I wouldn’t know, thinks Ami, I haven't got any. And that simple truth, blurted out in her mind, has her feeling more miserable than she's felt in months.</p><p>Ami tries. She tries so hard, but she can't fight her lip from trembling. She won't cry, not like this, she refuses to.</p><p>But she can't lie, either. She's never had a poker face.</p><p>Mamoru carefully looks away. He seems to get it. "What about your roommate?" he says, more gently. "Stephanie, isn't it?"</p><p>"No," says Ami. "Stephanie moved out. I-it's Erika now, or it was, and ... I don't think she likes me very much - not that that matters - she was only here for the summer and in a week someone else will move in and -"</p><p>"Do <em>you</em> like <em>her?</em>" asks Mamoru. "Or any of them?"</p><p>"Oh... I'm sure she's fine," says Ami. Her voice cracks on 'fine'. Nothing is fine.</p><p>"Hey, don't hold back," says Mamoru. "It's not like she's here. And with a name like Erika she probably wouldn't understand us speaking Japanese if she <em>were</em> here."</p><p>No, she isn't here. And Mamoru is, and Mamoru is a friend, and Mamoru is familiar, and the sudden strain of keeping everything back suddenly feels so very much. Ami's taut, tense posture snaps like a rubber band.</p><p>"I hate her," blurts Ami. "She's even worse than the other one. Stephanie was just ... quiet. But that I could understand, I'm also quiet. I mean... she's quiet in a bad way."</p><p>"Passive-aggressive," Mamoru supplies.</p><p>"Yes," says Ami. "Erika is... Erika's hostile. She's nasty and she has <em>so</em> many friends that she brings over all the time, and they're always sitting on <em>my</em> bed and she doesn't ask and it's probably my fault because I spend so long in the library anyway so she thinks it's her room now but it isn't, it <em>isn't</em>, and before my exams I swear she has the loudest sex <em>on purpose</em> and she thinks I'm homophobic because I asked her to stop but it was just so <em>loud!</em> I could hear everything! And so I can't even come home to eat but the food out is so ... it's so heavy, here, how do people deal? There’s only fast food on campus, you have to go for such a long walk to get off campus and the food is still fast food and even when it isn't it's huge portions and actually pretty expensive all things considered, I never thought I cared, and when the library is closed and I <em>have</em> to go home I dread it, I truly do, I can't get any studying done there because Erika - or Stephanie too, really - was always so distracting and negative and hostile and on top of it all untidy and I'm not their mother picking up after them but I found dirty underwear in <em>my</em> bed once so who's surprised I sleep poorly and I'm just <em>so tired all the time with dealing with that!</em>"</p><p>Ami puts a delicate hand to her mouth but it doesn't stop the chattering of her teeth - when did it get so cold in here?</p><p>Mamoru is silent and gaping.</p><p>She realises she's panting with exertion. She also realises she's crying.</p><p> </p>
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</div><p>Yet at the same time... lashing out like this, she feels finally alive. It's relieving in a way that the harsh winter wind on her face was, too. She's missed that since February. She'd thought winter would be difficult here, and it was, but it was also something so familiar and comforting. She didn't know cold could feel like that. She didn't know it could feel so <em>good</em>. There was a rage in the wind she recognised.</p><p>"Okay," says Mamoru. He blinks. "Ohh-kay. So - this is just a suggestion, but I think you should move out of the dorms."</p><p>"And live where, exactly?"</p><p>"Off-campus. There's loads of apartments." Ami knows from the look on Mamoru's face that her own facial expression is openly disbelieving but she doesn't even know where to begin - how hard it would be to find a place, she doesn't even have any friends. "You'd get a little more freedom, a proper kitchen, and it could be a cool way to see more of the city. You'd have to, since you'd have a neighbourhood. You don't ..." he sighs. "Forgive me for asking, but you don't really get out much, do you, Ami?"</p>
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</div><p>There's no point in hiding. Ami shakes her head.</p><p>"Look, I ... I know a guy who knows a guy who'd be looking for a roommate. I think he'd be up your alley. I can't guarantee he'll be better than Stephanie or Erika but, maybe it could work out. And you guys almost certainly won't have compatible schedules, which means you can plan times when you're alone in the apartment, even if you don't like him."</p><p>"Is he a friend of yours?" asks Ami. "Do you trust him?"</p><p>"I wouldn't suggest him to you if I didn't," says Mamoru. "I'd never put you in that kind of situation."</p><p>The kind of situation that Ami's been in for so long by her own choices and decisions. Would it be so bad?</p><p>"Give it 'til Hallowe'en," adds Mamoru. "And if you truly hate it? You can break the lease, I'll show you how, and you can go right on back to living in the dorms."</p><p>Ami doesn't know this guy from Erika... but it's nice to have a plan. And speaking to Mamoru makes her feel calmer, more normal. So she keeps listening. And maybe it's the tea (good quality) or the food (delicious) or the company (comforting) but it's so good to have Mamoru back that she forgets about how guilty she feels that she hasn't made any of her own friends, and depends entirely on Mamoru, which isn't fair to him. She depends on Mamoru for interesting restaurant choices, she depends on Mamoru for finding her a roommate, for helping her with the lease. She even depends on Mamoru ultimately for having picked this university.</p><p>This year, she tells herself. This year she'll find someone. One friend, that's all.</p><p>--</p><p>Mamoru's friend's name is Vassily. The place is actually rather perfect, though a bit expensive. Third floor of a Victorian house, a walk-up; it's charming, small and with narrow staircases, but high ceilings, and it's only fifteen minutes' walk to the library.</p><p>Vassily himself, when Ami finally meets him, is quiet and shy. He hardly even looks at her and he's unattractive, so Ami suspects without being overly uncharitable that she is unlikely to have the problems she had with Erika. Vassily will probably not bring people home and have loud annoying sex. Vassily may not even use the kitchen.</p><p>A month later Vassily moves back home. Ami finds out through Mamoru's text when she wonders why her roommate hasn't been home in two weeks. (Mamoru also asks her how she's doing, which is a phone notification she leaves unopened so he can't tell she's read it. Ami has become practiced at this technique, having perfected it on Minako.)</p><p>Both Ami <em>and</em> Vassily signed the lease, so at least he isn't leaving her high and dry, but she does have to come up with a roommate, or an exorbitant amount of rent to be able to afford a two-bedroom apartment in the downtown area.</p><p>But then Ami thinks about it over two more weeks, during which time the landlady is busy showing people the apartment and prospective roommates track muck from the streets all over Ami's welcome mat: actually... it's kind of serendipitous. All her own place. More than enough room. Nobody sharing the kitchen. Nobody not cleaning their own space. Mamoru could crash in the other bedroom if his own roommates are being too much. Perhaps - Ami starts to think, she starts to believe - perhaps she might have friends over too!</p><p><em>What</em> friends, though.</p><p>Well, maybe a boyfriend.</p><p><em>What</em> boyfriend.</p><p>Maybe she'll make it her study.</p><p>Affording a two-bedroom apartment in this area of the city is expensive, there's no getting around that. Her landlady takes her on only after she signs post-dated cheques that Ami knows will bounce by December if she doesn't somehow come up with the cash.</p><p>She'll need a job. That is, she doesn't need a job, but she does need to admit to her mother that she moved out. Got off campus, which is risky... She took a big risk on a roommate she didn't even know...</p><p>No, Ami could tell her mother about the move, but she couldn't tell her mother why she needs the extra money. She'll need a job.</p><p>But med school applications want well-rounded applicants anyway. And all the non-international students will have jobs or extracurriculars. (Ami suspects her three months in the video game club won't be enough to cut it on that front.) The only problem is that a job is a time sink. She needs something easy. Something she won't have to bring home.</p><p>--</p><p>Ami tries the library first. They reject her - not because she isn't qualified, or because she somehow isn't a good fit for their team. No, it's visa issues.</p><p>Stupid. So stupid! She had a talk with her mother before all this began and her mother asked whether she'd need a visa that would let her work. And Ami, of course, had said no at the time - why would she need to work? She had school to attend and a solid budget and everything else would more than take care of itself. Changing the visa means both going back to the consulate - a stressor all its own - <em>and</em> informing her mother. And her mother would want to know what's changed. She can't admit defeat.</p><p>She notices the sushi place three blocks away has a hiring sign, though.</p><p>To call it sushi feels kind of like treason, but it's easy, mindless work. The owner isn't Japanese; the other waiters aren't either. (The line cook is, though.) Her supervisor Ho Yan doesn't ask a lot of questions, and the restaurant is quite happy to pay under the table, because they only really need someone for certain shifts but would be obliged to offer more hours if she were legal.</p><p>The other waiters at the restaurant are Thanh and Somsak. Thanh is quiet and diligent, but Somsak is gregarious, almost obnoxiously so. Unfortunately, she works more often with Somsak, and Somsak has taken to flirting with her. Ami's not sure if Somsak understands a no when he hears one, but that doesn't matter, because Ami's not very good at being firm on giving one.</p><p>There is only one upside in the first few shifts she works, which is that a girl in her classes comes by once to grab lunch with friends. Later, during Concepts in Genetics, that girl waves and smiles at Ami - then sits down beside her.</p><p>"Hey," she says. "You work at Shimano Sushi? They're practically an institution around these parts."</p><p>Ami manages a meagre laugh. "Yeah," she lies, "it's pretty great."</p><p>Her name is Preeyada. This isn't the first time Ami has seen her - Preeyada has been in about half of her classes so far, Ami discovers she's a Biochem student - but this is the first time they've spoken. Preeyada, like Usagi years ago, saw Ami from across lecture halls and figured Ami was the one riding the GPA bell curve ahead of the rest of them. (Well, she wasn't wrong.) And though it doesn't lead to anything like hanging out after class or grabbing lunch or dinner, Ami has an actual class partner that stays in the lectures the full semester. Ami has someone to sit beside, take notes with, laugh at the professor's dumb jokes with, keep informed of homework if the other is missing (always Preeyada, Ami never misses a class), study for midterms with.</p><p>This is the closest Ami has come to having a friend. Reluctant to jeopardise anything or be overbearing (like Somsak is with her), Ami quietly cherishes Preeyada more than she'll know.</p><p>She tries to feel overjoyed. But part of her is too busy feeling alone and sorry for herself to do so.</p><p>It's progress, sure! It's a step in the right direction! But after a whole year here, she's met no one, she's learned nothing, she is still so alone. Was progress supposed to be this slow? This is a city full of people and she can't seem to find anyone who is compatible, who will stick (who isn't Somsak), who she doesn't already know from before like Mamoru? Wasn't university where you went to make friends? Ami realises she feels so bad and torn about it because she's celebrating the first effective C-grade she's gotten in her life, and she knows it.</p><p>I'm better than this, Ami tells herself. I deserve better than this, I can work harder than this, there must be something I'm doing wrong.</p><p>But then there comes the bright high chime of the kitchen bell, and she lifts out of her daze of frustration because it's time to take Table 15 their dragon roll and salmon bento, and sour waitresses don't get the coveted North American institution known as tips.</p>
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</div><p>--</p><p>The weekend of Hallowe'en, Mamoru texts her that there's a party at his place, but that she doesn't have to go if she doesn't want to. Ami suspects he's gotten the picture from the three texts he's sent that she hasn't replied to.</p><p>But Ami's never been big on parties. And Mamoru would be the only one she knows there, and that's just not enough people to be able to enjoy herself. But Usagi texts her too - &lt;are you going?? I wish I could go, too!! Please let me live vicariously through you?&gt; - and then so does Rei, and Minako, and Makoto, and then Ami feels obliged. She can fake her way out of an engagement with Mamoru, possibly, as she's been doing recently, because he's enough of a sucker he knows not to press too hard after that time they went for dim sum and Ami <em>cried</em>. But she can't lie to the girls. Not even over texts.</p><p>Minako's guessed, anyway.</p><p>&lt;you'd better go,&gt; Minako replies. &lt;I know you're not gonna want to but it's good for you to get out. You could kiss a boy! Even if you don't there'll be music, and dancing, and fun, and Mamoru throws great parties. I expect at least three photos. selfies, too. with you in them! You have to be in them, that's the rule. Don't make me call you, Ami. I do know how to convert the timezone.&gt; Minako, Ami knows, will probably forget about accounting for Daylight Savings.</p><p>Makoto texts too. &lt;you should go,&gt; she says. &lt;we're doing a little hallowe'en get together here too. wish you were here. if we know you're out at a party too, with Mamoru, it won't feel like we're missing a piece of the puzzle. I'd hate it, knowing you were all alone at home.&gt;</p><p>Ami smiles, bashful, as she reads it over, and a warmth suffuses her cheeks. &lt;OK,&gt; she texts back. &lt;But only as a favour to you.&gt;</p><p>She sets her phone back to Do Not Disturb (Minako <em>will</em> text back so often the vibrations will annoy everybody else in this library) and sets it down. She returns to her notes to pore over them for Friday's test - not like she doesn't have the material all memorised a week ago anyway - and a thought strikes her.</p><p>The girls never encouraged her to come to the same institution as Mamoru for Mamoru's benefit, did they? It was for Ami's benefit. They knew - they suspected - this would happen. Possibly they knew because Usagi remembered what it was like for Mamoru to be so alone in his bachelor's in America. So far away from anybody he recognised, having to make his own friends, set out on his own. Possibly they wanted to make sure the same didn't happen with Mamoru when he picked up from America and moved north.</p><p>But Mamoru's always kind of been on his own. And for a while ... so had Ami. When she was younger, in middle school, it mattered less, somehow, that she had no friends and only books. And she was never good at making friends. The transformation pens made them friends. (But Ami thinks, she would have chosen Usagi, Rei, Makoto, and Minako anyway.)</p><p>Somewhere along the lines ... thriving in their company has changed her, and isolation isn't what it used to be. What had once been a comforting thing - to go to the library and study for hours, surrounded by peace and quiet and knowledge - had become an affliction. And here she was, with no way to remedy it.</p><p>--</p><p>Ami lasts an hour. She gets her requisite three selfies, has a drink of maybe-punch (it's very sour, for punch; Mamoru's roommates aren't even bothering to hide the vodka), and then she starts checking her phone, pretending she's checking it for very important messages like the social butterfly she isn't but really looking up the hours of the grocery store, to make sure she can make it before close on her walk back home to her own flat.</p><p>She's steps away from the pile of shoes in the hallway by the front door before Mamoru finds her.</p><p>"Hey!" he says brightly. He's had a few glasses of the punch but he doesn't seem too intoxicated. "Ami - you're not going already, are you?"</p><p>Caught. Ami looks at Mamoru, then at the front door (her window of escape narrowly closing), then back at Mamoru and pastes a polite smile across her face. "Of course not!" she says. "Just the bathroom."</p><p>Mamoru lets her get away with it, mostly. "Well, it's definitely not on the front porch," he says. "I mean, if you have to go, I won't keep you, but I wanted to talk to you. For a while, actually. I think maybe we don't talk as often as we should."</p><p>Ami sighs. "I've just been busy with school," she says. A rehearsed answer.</p><p>"C'mon," says Mamoru. "I can barely hear you here."</p><p>He leads her into his bedroom, which has a door he can shut and block out most of the noise. He's redecorated - the wallpaper is gone, and he's replaced it with a coat of yellow paint. It looks sunny and cheery. There's pictures of Usagi next to his laptop on the neat desk and an open journal covered in scribbles. An agenda and a calendar on the wall with plenty of annotations. A paperback novel, bookmarked halfway through.</p><p>Mamoru, Ami sees, is doing <em>just fine</em> in school. He's well-rounded and friend-having and interest-indulging and all. "You told Usagi you'd check up on me," Ami realises.</p><p>Credit to him, he doesn't lie. "Yeah," he says. "But I would have anyway, I didn't have to be asked to by Usagi -"</p><p>"No, I mean that - I wish I didn't have to be checked up on," says Ami. She grimaces. "I should be better at all this. You don't have to keep sending me texts, I knew what I was getting into!"</p><p>"Actually, I'm not sure you did," says Mamoru. "I remember it from my first few years. I didn't either. Going dark, hardly calling or texting Usagi. Never checking in. Not - not really making any friends. Staying in the library all the time, because it was easier to avoid people. Being too stressed for my own good. Slowly <em>dying</em> - Ami, please don't take this the hard way, because I don't mean to be insulting, but you <em>look miserable</em>."</p><p>Ami brushes her cheeks, as somewhere during Mamoru's painfully on-the-nose diatribe, they've become uncomfortably wet. She blinks away the rest of her tears. "You don't have to rub it in."</p><p>"I'm not saying this to punish you!" Mamoru grabs her gently by the shoulders. "Ami, I'm your <em>friend</em>, I'm worried about you. And, yes, you're right. The girls <em>are</em> worried about you. Not because they thought you were somehow incapable of this, because they knew - you all knew - it happened to me too. And it's ... it's my fault, I was supposed to watch out a little better for you." He cracks a goofy grin and runs his fingers through his hair - his usual gesture to stave off awkwardness, his own guilt. "I just got so bound up in a master's degree that has unexpectedly become the first year of a doctorate. You'll find out soon enough yourself, how consuming it is. But it's no excuse. I should have done better. Please, Ami, forgive me."</p><p>Ami shakes her head, mute. If she says anything she knows she'll sob.</p><p>"Look," says Mamoru, "don't tell Usagi about this, but." And he turns around to his dresser. He squats down to the bottom drawer and hunts around. When he returns to Ami, he has a small box in his hand, a jewelry box. Three things fly through Ami's head nearly simultaneously:<br/>
- he's going to really propose to Usagi?<br/>
- well, we've always expected him to...<br/>
- is this really the time to bring that up with me, though?</p><p>Mamoru opens it, and it's not an engagement ring. It's a round medallion, moss green variegated with a darker black speckling, on a chain. "It was just the stone at first, but I had them put in settings - didn't seem right not to give them homes."</p>
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</div><p>"You're very attached to it, then," says Ami.</p><p>"I'd loan it to you, though," says Mamoru. "For as long as you need to. I don't usually believe in this kind of thing, crystals and healing and all that. Seems to defy logic. Or at least physics and geology. But ... that said, there's an energy to it. The Silver Crystal, the Golden Crystal. <em>That</em> kind of energy."</p><p>If this is a crystal like those, it's not something to be bandied about or loaned out. No wonder Mamoru had it set. "Where did it come from?"</p><p>"Turned up in my drawer one night, years ago. I never told anyone."</p><p>That sounds suspicious. "You probably should have," says Ami.</p><p>Mamoru shrugs. "Probably. Like I said, don't tell Usagi. From what I can tell there's no harm in it, though. It doesn't react like something negative would, with the Golden Crystal. And it was so helpful in maintaining my anxieties in my bachelor's degree. I thought... you could use it now."</p><p>Ami takes the box gently, and strokes the side of the smooth, green rock. It doesn't look any different than a normal piece of - jade? Malachite, jasper? Can't be emerald. It's not clear what kind of green stone it is. "What about you?" asks Ami. "You said your degree was consuming."</p><p>Mamoru smiles. "I have three more. Two green, one sort of a lavender colour. Not that I want to lose any of them! I'd ask you to promise to take good care of that one, but I already know you will."</p><p>"If you're sure," says Ami. The pendant <em>is</em> very pretty.</p><p>--</p><p>The first thing she does when she returns home (grocery store closed, but she's not hungry anyway) is scan it with her mini-computer. It brings up anyolite, a common mix of three different other kinds of stones, one of which is ruby. Well, if there is any ruby, it must not be cut in a way that shows the red. Chemical formula, crystal habit, Mohs scale, lustre - she scans through all these data but there's nothing that jumps out.</p><p>It <em>is</em> giving off some kind of energy, she notices. Low-level field. Not EM, or if it is, it's not enough to ionise and it's non-magnetic. No radiation. Whatever it is, it's contained within the setting. Seems harmless; safe to wear.</p><p>Ami puts it on. The back of the medallion exposes the gemstone itself, so the smooth cool stone rests on her bare skin, right upon her sternum. A bit low, but there's no way to hitch it up on the chain.</p><p>She has to admit it, she does feel better. It's a comforting weight, nestled between her breasts. From time to time she takes it in hand and idly strokes her thumb across the smooth surface of the gem, like petting a soft animal.</p><p>Four hours at a party (one hour actually there, two hours actively psyching herself up to go, a third hour in transit) means she's behind on her own study schedule, and studying always relaxes her. Getting the right answer, obvious progress, checks in the right boxes. So she spends some time with her Immunity and Infectious Diseases notes and doesn't look up again until it's nearly 3 am. Exhausted in more ways than one, and with class again tomorrow at 10, she crawls into bed and passes out.</p><p>
  <em>A warm lagoon. Tropical setting, no trees. Look up: endless stars in a void sky, cut by a crossing streak of dusty white. Someone behind her brushes the hair from the nape of her neck, kisses it. Shivers without cold as he trails a single finger down her spine, below the water. She tries to turn around but he grabs a fistful of her hair and twists her, bachata-like, gentle but almost not, until she's bent over sideways. Hair in her face, hers and his. His mouth on her neck is hot, and she relaxes, cared-for, watched-over, until land slips out from under her feet and she sinks underneath the surface of the water, without a ripple, and the skies cloud...</em>
</p><p>Blearily Ami wakes. 5:47am. Still too early.</p><p>But that dream... as though she can feel the sensation of water on her skin, or the feeling of sinking deeper, and not stopping herself... it's eerie.</p><p>Well, dreams are like that. She thinks nothing of it, and rolls over to sleep some more.</p><p>--</p><p>Her lab partner in Biochem Lab I that semester is an idiot, and for the most part Ami doesn't say anything because it's a third year course and she's a second year student, never mind the fact that between first year's overloaded second semester and the summer, Ami has taken enough courses to merit third-year standing. But it still feels like she's surrounded by upperclassmen she can't talk back to, out of respect.</p><p>That all changes one day in November when her (assigned) lab partner nearly ruins their electrophoresis by switching the anode and cathode buffers, then tries to fix it by inverting the electric charge. Ami almost doesn't notice until too late.</p><p>"What the <em>hell</em> is wrong with you?" Ami finds herself hissing across the lab desk. She notices her partner Keith's eyes are red. "If you're going to wake and bake, the least you could do is sit in the corner and not make a fool of yourself, rather than get me in trouble with the TA when <em>I</em> have to <em>redo our work</em>. Now I have an hour left in this lab to fix your fuck-ups."</p><p>"Dude," says Keith, "chill. I thought they said you were a good lab partner. You sound like my parents."</p><p>"If I were your <em>parents</em>," says Ami, "I would <em>punish</em> you. Now be a good boy and <em>don't touch a damn thing</em>." There's a growl to her voice that isn't Ami's so much as it is Mercury's, and Keith is slow to understand in this state, but he gets the picture. He shuffles off to the other side of the table and doesn't interject when she takes command of the experiment.</p><p>Ami can't feel sorry for him. She's come too far, and worked too hard, to have some nitwit ruin it.</p><p>But an hour later she is rethinking her particular tone. It's no one's fault Keith's coping mechanism with school and his own parents (who no doubt run him hard) is a little bit of rebellion. Even if Ami hadn't caught it, it wouldn't be the end of the world. They're not the only group who fucked up the experiment - Trudy and Eugene mixed the wrong percentage of agarose and had to come in last Saturday to redo it. It would be three weeks of work wasted, sure, but it could be redone.</p><p>It's not the end of the world. But it feels like it.</p><p>Ami's madder at herself for nearly not having caught it in time. For trusting Keith to do his part when she knows there's no point in trusting anybody she doesn't know. She should have been more on the ball.</p><p>Instead of apologising to Keith for her tone, she grips the pendant around her neck - it's become a great source of comfort in these last few weeks - and feels better. Besides, why <em>can't</em> she rely on others? Why is it she always has to rely on herself, and why can't anyone else in this school take things seriously? No, Ami wasn't really wrong.</p><p>"Sorry," she mumbles anyway, at the end of the lab. Keith shrugs, saying nothing. Why even bother.</p><p>--</p><p>It's a difficult semester. Ami's under a lot of stress and none of it seems to be mitigated by anything, no matter what she does. If Mamoru, or the girls, or anyone has tried to text her, she doesn't know - there's no point in having the dumb thing on anymore except for work, where she is every day and they ask her if she wants more shifts. She doesn't, but it's become a daily thing now, an 11-4 five hour stretch of being on her feet, taking orders, bringing food, ignoring Somsak, pumping customers out like sausage meat. Around that she shapes the rest of her courses - seven of them. She starts at six in the morning and she doesn't stop until well past midnight, and weekends are no exception.</p><p>Last but not least, she has the creepy feeling of being watched. Not just at work (Somsak's eyes can't be stopped, much as she'd like to), but at home, too. She has curtains in the bathroom but maybe they're not thick enough. She resolves to get better ones in the new year. It's not the best part of town and maybe there's a peeping Tom in the apartment across the street. If it would set her mind at ease, that's already a boon.</p><p>But it's all worth it. All the stress, all the focus, all the exhaustion, like a switch set to on and never turning off for two straight months. Her GPA that semester is A+'s all across the board, and as awful as that job is, she hasn't had to ask for money. She's eating far healthier than she did when she lived on campus but that's an accidental thing, mostly because she hasn't got time to cook (so if she hasn't set up the rice cooker in advance, it's a raw vegetable day).</p><p>So...</p><p>So Ami deserves to go home for Christmas!</p><p>She deserves to see her friends, she deserves a little joy, after denying herself so long!</p><p>It's a long flight back to Tokyo but a full day later she touches Japanese soil again for the first time in over a year. People she recognises, familiar sounds and sights and smells. It's so unimaginably wonderful, she wonders why she stayed away last Christmas, and whether her initially practical reasons were really worth it, to remain where she was.</p><p>And best of all, outside of the customs area, she finds the entire crew there, waiting for her. Usagi wallops her in a hug and the rest join in and Ami fights tears of joy. A weight so heavy, so comfortable, is finally lifted. She was right to leave the pendant behind, she doesn't need it here.</p><p>Over the next three weeks, she's delighted to find little has really changed. The space that she'd carved out for herself didn't close up behind her after she'd left. Mina takes evening courses now, and works during the day at a fancy department store; Rei does the same and works at the shrine. (It must have a good effect; Rei seems calmer than she did in high school. Perhaps Ami should see if there's a Meditation Club.) Usagi and Makoto are both at school full-time. Usagi seems to be enjoying her classes, though her parents disapprove of her choice of study. But something about Sailor Moon has given her the strength to stand up to them, for what she wants, and after all it takes all kinds of people to make a society, not just businessmen, engineers, and doctors. (One of Minako's mantras. Usagi freely admits she rattles it off so readily because she's given it to her mom more than once.)</p><p>Makoto, meanwhile, is in culinary school, and she adores it. She won't stop talking about it, actually. Ami's never really seen her lit up like this about something - <em>so</em> fired up - and there's a vibrancy to Makoto that has Ami ... well, if she's honest with herself, completely entranced.</p><p>It strikes Ami halfway through a cafe date with all the girls there, as she's sitting across from Makoto, feeling like the world has fallen away, regretting every moment spent with her nose to the books and not talking to Makoto more often than she did. Then, it hits her, and Ami realises it.</p><p>This is why she was attracted to the TA. The TA was so much like Makoto, she felt familiar, she felt recognisable.</p><p>Oh my god, thinks Ami, am I in love with my friend?!</p><p>That can't be. Makoto - well, Makoto used to keep talking about that old senpai of hers so often it became a thing they'd tease her about. And the senpai was always male! Ami thinks just a little bit about the prospect of telling Makoto how she might feel and her stomach roils. No, no. She could <em>never</em>.</p><p>Makoto, blessedly, doesn't notice a single thing about Ami's gay panic. Guess Ami's gotten good at lying about her own mental state, pretending everything is fine when she's freaking out inside. It feels <em>horrible</em>, to lie to Makoto like that.</p><p>But Ami can't confess.</p><p>--</p><p>Makoto doesn't notice, but someone else does.</p><p>"So," says Michiru, sliding easily into the booth to nestle up nice and close beside her, "did you ever talk to that girl of yours?"</p><p>Ami nearly spits out her coffee.</p><p>"Relax," says Michiru. "You know, you're not the only one of you inners." Not Makoto? thinks Ami. Her heart begins to pound. "Usagi's always had an eye."</p><p>"But what about Mamoru?" protests Ami.</p><p>Michiru shrugs. It's an elegant movement on her. Michiru makes everything look elegant. "Dating a guy wouldn't make her any less attracted to ladies, too. Now, I don't think she'd ever do anything - you're right, she adores him - but there's potential there. You wouldn't be alone, is what I'm saying. See?" Michiru smiles, casual. Prettily. If only Ami would crush on her. Michiru would understand. "Not so bad, right?"</p><p>"That's actually not what I was worried about," says Ami. Ami, after all, doesn't really care who thinks what about who she likes, or who knows. What does it matter, she has no friends to judge her, not that they would. (Hell, in the case of Somsak who won't leave her alone, it might even be better if he thought that this was why she spurned his advances. For some definition of spurned. She can't really be too rude at work, she works with the guy, and she's not working legally.)</p><p>"So, it's the person in question," guesses Michiru. She looks around, tossing her hair about her shoulders, and Ami can smell the intoxicating, cool scent of her shampoo. "Well? Go on, speak your mind. It's not like she's here with us."</p><p>"Right," says Ami, lying. Except that she is. Michiru means well, but this line of questioning is starting to fluster her. Ami places a hand on her chest, reaching for a pendant that she's left an ocean away. What a bad idea that was! Comfort she clings to that's been ripped out from under her feet. "Well, I don't think it would have worked out," Ami manages at last. "Too much at stake."</p><p>"Ah, that's too bad," Michiru replies. She takes a hint better than Somsak.</p><p>--</p><p>It's a lovely time in Japan but eventually it does come to an end. Ami feels renewed, though, she feels like she can tackle it a bit better. She leaves promising everybody that she'll keep in touch more often than she has been doing and feeling like she'll actually keep that promise for once.</p><p>She doesn't, of course.</p><p>Winter semester courses ramp up in difficulty - helped no less by Ami taking seven of them - and the job has started to become really annoying. She's tried to reduce her hours as much as she can to be able to balance the weight of the course load. Her supervisor is very much unhappy about that, and retaliates by giving her the shifts where no one tips or when Somsak works. Ami smiles and nods and takes it like the bitter pill it is. It's a job, it's money, nothing more.</p><p>One ugly thawed Monday in February, too warm for snow so everything has become grey slush, Ami is returning to the apartment briefly for a nap between work and a lab. She sets her alarm, and when she wakes up she's even more exhausted than she was when she went to bed.</p><p>Nothing to do about it, time to get to her lab. She goes to brush her teeth, still bleary. She studies herself in the mirror - she looks about as bad as she feels. Maybe some concealer would help with the dark circles, or teabags for the puffiness in her eyes? Perhaps she'll ask Minako for recommendations.</p><p>She bends to spit and rinse and when she straightens <em>there is a man behind her in the mirror</em>.</p><p>Ami gasps and whirls around, backing up against the sink.</p><p>But... nobody's there.</p><p>She looks back to the mirror. Empty, just her.</p><p>She peeks her head outside of the bathroom. No one else in the apartment. She holds her breath to have perfect silence for a few seconds: no footsteps. She is <em>alone</em>.</p><p>It wasn't just a man, though, if she's being truthful. She had recognised him - that was Zoisite.</p><p>Ami hasn't seen Zoisite since... well, since she was fourteen. That was <em>years</em> ago! And Zoisite, like the other Dark Kingdom Shitennou, like every youma they've ever fought, like every villain they've ever fought who didn't repent (and Zoisite certainly never did any of that), <em>died</em>.</p><p>Overstudying, Ami decides. It's midterm season. She's been so busy she can barely rest, and she's been hitting the books a little <em>too</em> hard. That must be it.</p><p>She rubs a thumb across the pendant again, and it calms her beating heart a little bit. Still shaken, she puts it out of her mind as best she can and heads to the lab. She's already a little late - good thing she did the prelab work days ago.</p><p>The lab is fine, except for the part where she has to be assigned a partner because everybody who is friends has already partnered up. Ami tells the TA on duty she's more than happy working alone, but there's lab protocol to worry about and they pair her anyway with Kimiko. Kimiko is okay - Kimiko's another Japanese international student, so at least they can talk to one another - but she needs a lot of assistance because she usually doesn't have the prelab work completed so she never has any idea what they're doing. Kimiko has however learnt to stay out of Ami's way and pass her the relevant tools from time to time, like they're surgeons. Kimiko and Ami settle into a quiet routine.</p><p>After the lab, Ami spends the rest of the evening in the library, studying for the midterms she has before reading week. (Reading week has already been booked off to study for the midterms she has <em>after</em> it. Mamoru has invited her to a party, which she's struggling to find the right words to decline.)</p><p>Not everyone takes midterm season as seriously as others, it seems. An hour before close, in the stacks nearby the desk where Ami has installed herself, she overhears a low panting of breaths, the smacking of lips. A zipper; the shift of clothing, a soft grunt. Ami hasn't looked up for awhile and has no idea who it is (a guy and a girl? two girls, two guys? it sounds like only two people...). It's extremely annoying and very uncomfortable, too.</p>
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</div><p>She tries not to listen but she can't unhear it, nor can she unnotice the way their breaths speed up as they keep going, faster, hotter. Her cheeks inflame. She wishes she'd brought her headphones, but no luck. She tries to focus on her reading material. Just finish already, she thinks, rubbing the pendant absently with her thumb.</p><p>The library staff eventually kick her out to close up for the night. As Ami packs up, she realises she'd had the headphones after all, the outside pocket she never checks.</p><p>Another weird dream later that night. This time it's her in the stacks with someone behind her, one arm around her ribcage, the other with a hand sliding down the waistband of her pants, inside them. She tries to keep her legs closed but they kick them open, nudging at her feet until they're far enough apart that her companion can slip a hand past her underwear and lower still, between her labia. One long finger presses in, finds wetness, and uses it to stroke and slide up until it reaches her clit, circling around once, then over it in an up and down motion. Ami's wide-eyed, pressed up against the same section she must have been in twenty times. She struggles not to make a noise, but her friend behind her is making that extremely difficult.</p><p>She throbs for more even though it's the <em>library</em>, this is <em>in public</em>, and the stacks here are tall but not that tall, they're dark but not that dark. Her best move now is to keep very still so they won't trigger the motion-activated lights, so that this can stay in the shadows, but she longs for it so bad she wants to thrust into their hand. She doesn't even know this person's name, but she's coming for them, legs shaking, gasping fast through her nose to keep quiet as she stares at the library codes taped to the spines of the books she knows so well.</p>
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</div><p>Ami wakes up halfway through with her heart pounding, an equally strong throb between her legs. She rolls over to check the time on her phone: sometime near four AM. Groggily, she looks over, and there's ... a person, there? a shadow at the end of the bed?</p><p>Ami blinks, and it fades into dark spots. Afterimage from the backlight from having checked her phone. Exhausted, she passes back out, and in the morning she's already forgotten all about it.</p><p>--</p><p>Ami never does find the right words to decline, so she winds up going to Mamoru's mid-reading week party after all. Surprise of surprises, she has a decent time. She knows what to expect this time, and just to be around people, around the noise of life, is good.</p><p>It helps that Mamoru has made more friends in the Med Sci and Biology departments now and she recognises a few of her lab TAs and student instructors. Two of them are very friendly. Encouraged, Ami has a bit to drink, and then a bit more. She's more tipsy than she's ever been, but it all becomes a lot easier. She's a little more gregarious when she's drunk, less aware of how awkward she is around people she doesn't know.</p><p>And besides, she <em>does</em> know them! Cameron and Leslie are part of the lab admin team for Comparative Plant Morphology, and she sees them every Tuesday. They seem nice, though they kind of treat her with kid gloves. Maybe that's understandable - she is the student, after all - technically only in second year though she has more than enough experience, and even after hours and outside of the lab, it's hard to transcend that relationship.</p><p>More than once she scans the room, looking somewhat helplessly for Mamoru without finding him, finding instead a Nigerian girl she was introduced to at the Hallowe'en party - a skinny ginger fellow who's a boyfriend of one of Mamoru's roommates - Mamoru's running partner who is the tallest Chinese person Ami's ever met - a young man with sharp features and a wicked grin, bright green eyes and curly caramel hair worn long and spilling down his elfin shoulders - a dark-eyed girl with a long braid whose name she thinks is maybe Setareh?</p><p>Wait, back up. The young man. <em>That's Zoisite</em>.</p><p>She gasps aloud.</p><p>"What's up?" asks Leslie.</p><p>"Thought I..." Ami looks around again. He's gone - no one there, just Mamoru's friends and roommates and roommates' friends. The room's packed but no Zoisite, and he'd be easy to spot, most people here are dark-haired. Ami puts a hand to her neck, feeling around for her pendant, bringing it out from under her clothes to hold it, a warm weight in her hand. "Thought I saw someone I knew."</p><p>She keeps looking up from time to time as the conversation ebbs, darting her gaze around, trying to be covert, but there's no one who even fits the description. What could it have been that she saw?</p><p>It nearly happens more than once that night - not Zoisite, but others. A flash of long white hair has her momentarily gripping the pendant out of terror - Kunzite? No. On second glance, it <em>could</em> be Kunzite, though. It's a reasonable mistake but that's Alex who has pin-straight shoulder-length hair dyed that trendy silver colour, kissing Kayla, a leggy blonde who's always reminded Ami of Minako. More people who look like people she remembers fighting with, fighting against. It's a natural thing to assume, she tells herself. She twists her fingers in the chain around her neck, looping it around the knuckles back and forth, or toys with the pendant by smoothing the stone with the pad of her thumb. It's soothing, and after a while she no longer sees people who aren't there. Slowly, she begins to relax again.</p><p>Drinking helps with that, too. Ami drinks more than she would ordinarily - just vodka coolers, but they taste like juice going down. Jerry at the liquor store three blocks from her apartment recommended them when she mentioned a university party, and they've been pretty popular. She trades one for someone's beer - not bad, but not great, like drinking bread - and another for half a plastic cup of wine - much better, someone has good taste - and each bring a conversation with someone she hasn't met before.</p><p>They all ask about the pendant. One of them reaches out to touch it - a natural thing, since Ami can't seem to keep her hands off it in high-stress situations like today - and Ami has to repress the sudden tsunami-high wave of irritation. She says the same thing she always does: a gift from a friend, something nice to hang on to. Ifeoma, with whom Ami traded for beer, says she always used to bring a polished stone for luck for exams, a little hunk of amethyst or quartz.</p><p>Ami stays two and a half hours this time and feels like that's an accomplishment. She walks home with a spring in her step. Maybe that's the buzz she's still got. But it's warming, to have something like that now that February has dipped back into the extreme cold of minus 20.</p><p>A good night. She feels a little reckless, a little invincible. Not even the feeling of being watched can get her down - let the eyes in the walls watch her strip as she gets ready for bed!</p><p>Ridiculousness, she thinks. There's no one here but her. She grins, giddy, and strokes the pretty green stone that lies between her breasts.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. summer, after second year</h2></a>
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    <p>In the summer time there's a minor crisis when Ami's perfect schedule (revision number 34) gets thrown out when the course she'd been hoping to take, Eukaryotic Gene Expression, isn't offered. It makes <em>no</em> sense - the past three years (Ami has checked, because they post course schedules online, and she has that page bookmarked, there's no <em>way</em> she made a mistake!) they have always offered it in summer! But this year, nothing. EGE isn't even being replaced by a different course, or an equivalent.</p><p>It's terrible, because she had been so looking forward to Regulatory Networks and Systems in her final year, which she can't take until she has Advanced Biochem Methods for which she needs EGE as a prerequisite. This throws <em>everything</em> out of order. She has a moment of irrational panic and resorts to fiddling with her pendant until she can calm herself down.</p><p>Nothing to do but redo the schedule. She works through two more and evaluates them - this time she uploads the historical course data to the supercomputer to see if she can tell how likely it is that a course will be cancelled. No more unpleasant surprises. She runs her numbers, one schedule wins out over the other, it's a perfect pipeline. She will take Mammalian Molecular Biology, then Advanced Biochem Methods, then she can take Regulatory Networks and Systems. Crisis averted. She breathes easily, though she still has the tremors of anxiety in her fingers and the concentrated tension in her muscles.</p><p>Just as Ami's about to put the mini supercomputer back in its box - she rarely takes it out in public anymore - she gets an idea. She takes the pendant off and places it on the desk, then runs another scan.</p><p>Anyolite again comes up, but this time she pays more attention to the decomposition. 32% ruby - which she remembers had previously surprised her, since the gemstone isn't red - 12% pargasite, which is the black/dark green speckling - and the remainder is -</p><p>Zoisite.</p><p>But that can't be a coincidence, can it? That she sees him in the mirror, at a party, a man who's been dead for years?</p><p>Ami scans it again. The same numbers come up. This time she looks more closely at the energy source, tries to scan for anomalies.</p><p>Nothing. The stone sits there, placidly, in the open pages of her book. Like any innocent rock. Shiny in the sunlight; under the fluorescents in the library, its sheen is a little duller. Just as plain green, though.</p><p>No anomalies on the supercomputer, and the supercomputer is hard to fool.</p><p>She shakes her head. The information must have lodged in her mind, somewhere, back when she first scanned it. She was simply distracted by the ruby component, but some part of her subconscious picked up on the zoisite. And now that she's under so much stress, it's producing that connection. That's all. It's a trick of the mind, signals crossing with her long-term memory, or maybe her amygdala, or both. The pressure is simply getting to her, and the primitive brainstem is reacting.</p><p>Ami puts the pendant back on. Well, if nothing else, it's helping teach her neuroscience. Speaking of which, it's two weeks into May and she still hasn't even begun June's recommended reading.</p><p>--</p><p>Ami's stress only intensifies. That'll happen when you overload your summer semester and take six courses, all of which are double-time, but this way she can graduate school a full year early, and that's a very good plan. So her stress can deal, because Ami has goals and she <em>will</em> achieve them.</p><p>But as a result the dreams become a lot - a <em>lot</em> - more common. Most times she sleeps right through the morning, and her only clue is the throb between her thighs. But sometimes she wakes with a jolt, blinking herself alert, so aroused that she can't get back to sleep easily.</p><p>It takes three dreams kicking her awake at 4am for her to build up the courage.</p><p>...Everyone does it, don't they? Well, so can she! And she needs to be alert for her 8am lab, which means she <em>needs</em> these four hours of sleep. Which means she puts a hand down her pyjama pants, slips it inside the waistband of her underwear, to touch herself.</p><p>She hasn't really got an idea of what to do... ordinarily she'd consult a book, find a manual. But it's too late - and too early - to pull up her laptop, and she just wants to get back to sleep. She's desperate for sleep.</p><p>Her fingertip traces a line between her labia, grazing her clit on the way up, oil-slick and acutely sensitive, and she nearly rockets up to a sitting position with how unexpectedly <em>intense</em> it is.</p><p>It never seemed like this in the dreams! Perhaps because it was good in a way that was her mind telling her it was good, but not her body reacting, being stimulated.</p><p>Turns out she doesn't need to consult a manual for this.</p><p>Ami discovers her nails are a little too long - the sensation is stronger this way, almost violent with how concentrated it is - but if she spreads her legs wide, holds herself open, she can stroke with the blunt tip of her index finger, and that's <em>good</em>. She bucks her hips for more in response, because it feels fantastic in a wanton way. Her pulse beats a rhythm in her throat from threnody to cadenza as she strokes and gasps, thinking <em>harder, faster, more, like that</em>, until she convulses into orgasm. It falls over her in contracted waves; she rides them with her index finger pressed against her clit, arched back with her chest out. The pendant is heavier like this, more noticeable where it lies on her sternum, between her small breasts. Heaving for air brushes her peaked nipples against the inside of her pyjama shirt, pressed up against it by her bedcovers. They're so tender that even this subtle movement makes her tingle.</p><p>In minutes, she's asleep, too tired even to feel ashamed.</p><p>Ami dreams again the next night, and the night after that, and this time the person in her dreams who holds her, who touches her, is no longer some shadowy presence but Zoisite himself. When she wakes up in the middle of the night, too aroused to drift off without the assistance of orgasm, there's a part of her that's disgusted by how wet she is. It's just dreams, she tells herself. They don't really make sense, they're a way for the subconscious to process the world. All this tells her is Ami's stresses have begun to cross signals in her mind and what terrifies her - stress, one-time enemies - have now somehow consolidated into high-octane lust. </p><p>Psychologically speaking, this happens to a billion other people. It doesn't <em>mean</em> anything.</p><p>Still, it would be so nice if she didn't have <em>hot sex dreams</em> about her one-time enemy.</p><p>--</p><p>Days later, it's mid-day, and Ami is exhaustedly walking home from work. If she walks quickly she can squeeze in a nap of maybe an hour before waking up to prepare for her next lab session. Prelab work done (weeks ago), but she'll need to review it to be on her best form to convince the TAs she doesn't need a partner. That worked last time -</p><p>There's a Starbucks on the street between the sushi joint and her house. She's never noticed it before but now she does, because Jadeite is in the window, curled up on a couch with a laptop.</p><p>Ami blinks.</p><p>Jadeite <em>doesn't</em> go away.</p><p>It's unmistakeably him! She remembers seeing his terrifying, awful face projected into the night sky, she'd know it anywhere now.</p><p>Two people pass her on the sidewalk, walking around her on the grass because she's stopped stuck in the middle of the walkway. One of them says a rude "Ex<em>cuse</em> me" as he passes. Ami barely notices.</p><p>Jadeite is <em>still there</em>. He puts down the laptop, heaves a sigh and balances his head on one hand as he looks out the window, aimless and carefree. (Ami's blood boils just to see it, how <em>dare</em>.) His eyes fall on her - exactly the same shade of blue, she's forgotten nothing - and he grins.</p><p>That's a step too fucking far, she thinks. She whirls on her heel and enters the cafe. "You!" she cries. "What are you doing here!? You're supposed to be <em>dead!</em>"</p><p>Jadeite sits back in his comfy seat and uncrosses his legs, looking up at her with an inquisitive expression. She reaches into her pocket for her transformation pen - but it isn't there, because she leaves it at home with the rest of her senshi equipment where it's safe, where she doesn't need it.</p><p>Jadeite's eyes watch her, taunting, almost amused when she comes up empty.</p><p>The low noise of people chatting has quieted around them. Ami looks around to find everybody in the seating area looking their way.</p><p>When she looks back Jadeite is gone, replaced by a blond-haired man in his early thirties. Different eyes, different nose. Massive Adam's apple, thick eyebrows. Stubbly chin. "Do - do we know each other?" he asks, in a baritone. That's <em>not</em> Jadeite's voice. "I think you got me mixed up with someone else."</p><p>"I," says Ami. "I, you..."</p><p>She trails off.</p><p>"Dead, eh? Think they probably gave you some story," the man replies. He grins, and it's nothing like Jadeite's, no malice, just sympathy. "S'okay, I've had that happen before."</p><p>It's not him, it never was him, it was her mind playing tricks on her, and now her heart is palpitating for a wholly different reason: the shame of having made a scene. Over <em>nothing</em>. She can practically feel the blood drain from her face.</p><p>"No," she whispers at last, "m-my apologies. I was mistaken. I'm so sorry." She shuffles away to make for the door for a quick exit, and tries to pull it open. It won't open. Her nerves spin up again like a whirring centrifuge and she gives another hard, useless yank before her eyes catch the text.</p><p>It's a push door.</p><p>Mortified, she pushes her way through.</p><p>She needs a nap <em>so badly</em>, but now there's no time to work it in anyway, and she's too frenetic to get to sleep. She pulls out the pendant from underneath her clothes and fondles it until it's warm with the touch of her skin, until she's started to relax.</p><p>By the time her lab starts, she's nearly normal again. For whatever normal has become.</p><p>--</p><p>That night, she has another dream, just as unforgettable as the rest of them have become lately. Ami wakes panting, a strange admixture of terrified and excited, and it almost makes her <em>sick</em>. If only Zoisite had stayed that shadowy presence. That unknown constant in her dreams, if only she didn't have to see him, look at him, know it was him!</p><p>But in this dream they were in her bed and he was on top of her, right up in her face, in her personal space, and there was nowhere she could look that didn't contain clues to what she was doing and with whom. Look over his shoulder? There's his curls, a massive cloud of golden-brown ringlets that toss and bounce as he thrusts.</p><p>He'd been inside her, and the dream was so surreal in that way that dreams are that it was less that she could feel him, his cock inside her, and more that it was a fact she cerebrally knew. Ami of course has no idea what it feels like to have sex like that, she has no idea what to expect, and her mind apparently didn't bother filling in details of what her imagination lacks - but she knew it all the same, they were intimate, he was <em>inside</em> her.</p><p>What her mind <em>did</em> conjure up was his face, his eyes as they bored into hers, his delicate lips as they sneered. Skinny shoulders underneath that old grey uniform. How did he fuck her with his clothes on? Who knows, it's dream-logic. His weight heavy against her thighs, holding them wide apart with his thin hips, grabbing her by the thigh with one of his gloved hands to squeeze her as he lifted her up for better access, to fuck her deeper.</p><p>His weight on top of her, pressing her into the bed so she couldn't move, could only lie there, spread open, and take it.</p>
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</div><p>Ami doesn't ever seem to come in her dreams, she just edges closer to orgasm, a frustrating asymptote until she either rouses into consciousness too hot to sleep or the alarm wakes her. This time it was the former, drifting her into wakefulness and an unforgettable feeling of humiliation. The weight she felt was nothing more than the pendant, hot against her bare skin. She supposes that's what she gets for sleeping with it on, the chunk of zoisite morphs into the real Zoisite in her dreams because her brain likes to rewire that signal. She feels stupid for how easily she was tricked. But sleeping with it on is the only way she can get to sleep sometimes, the anxiety otherwise too acute.</p><p>Below the waist, her cunt practically pulses with need, she's so wet she's practically molten. She ignores it. It's 6:42 in the morning, so she may as well wake up and get some studying done.</p><p>This semester's elective is Mythology and Legend, and she speeds through her notes for next week's test with tea and rice until it's time for her first real lecture at 10. She's already done half the course, which is good, because it's not uninteresting but these electives aren't what she's here to study. One thing that she does come across, though, sticks in her mind: the myth of the succubus and, related, the incubus. Demons that seduce during sleep. There's more information, the links to Gilgamesh and Mesopotamia, St Augustine and the Christian tradition, King James' Daemonologie, but all that Ami sets aside.</p><p><em>The word incubus</em>, she reads, <em>means 'to lie on', and it was believed that any heavy feeling in bed, such as a weight pressing down on one's chest, especially accompanied by nightmares, was a sure sign that an incubus had attempted to have nocturnal intercourse. Given the religious fervour of the middle ages, it is not altogether surprising that the idea of a demon lover was believed to account for this phenomenon....</em></p><p>The pendant weighs her down, like an anchor. She pulls it out from beneath her clothing to stroke it again, trying to wring some calmness from it. It's just religious fervour. A stupid myth. It doesn't exist in real life, it's her mind making things up. She must have read it weeks ago when she made these notes, and it stuck fast since then. Proof she's been studying, that's all. It's a weird coincidence. Nothing more.</p><p>--</p><p>Her lectures for Mammalian Molecular Biology end late on Wednesdays, and the Med Sci building is in the same section of the campus as the rest of the science-related buildings. So sometimes other disciplines hold their tutorials in Med Sci's building after hours. So, theoretically, it shouldn't be that unlikely that she runs into people who are giving, say, Astronomy tutorials.</p><p>"Hey!" says the pretty Astronomy TA that she once had the biggest crush on. "It's Ami, isn't it? Funny seeing you here!"</p><p>The TA's voice is a mellifluous alto that dances down her spine, how could Ami have <em>forgotten</em> this? Her hair hangs around her shoulders in beautiful brown waves, down to the small of her back, and she's wearing a sleeveless grey top that shows off her biceps, paired with tight grey jeans that show off her fit legs.</p><p>"Y- uh, yes," says Ami, eloquent as always. "That is. My name. That's correct."</p><p>They make small talk on the way back to the main road through campus, which Ami then takes south to her apartment, and (presumably) the TA heads north to her office, having just come from a tutorial herself. "It's such a shame you never took AST102," the TA says, "you know you were my best student. You had the highest grade all semester, I was so proud!"</p><p>"Mm-hmm," says Ami.</p><p>"I know I can't take credit, you're the one who did all that studying, but ..." she pinches her index and thumb close with a cheeky grin, "maybe just a little bit!"</p><p>It's now that three things come to Ami's attention:<br/>
- Michiru telling Ami that she couldn't date the TA while they were in a professional relationship (but now that's over, and Ami's got third-year standing so it's not like she's a baby firstie anymore),<br/>
- the TA <em>does</em> seem to be flirting with her, and Ami's been so pent-up and repressed for so long that she's having sex dreams about her old enemies that are so intense she has to masturbate herself back to sleep,<br/>
- all that grey from head to toe with a deep voice and beautiful chestnut hair cascading in waves almost like it has a mind of its own and not a single rose earring in sight has begun to remind Ami less of Makoto, and more ... and more of Nephrite.</p><p>"Like they say, it's written in the stars," the TA is saying, "so I guess the stars know everything!"</p><p>Ami freezes.</p><p>The TA walks another two paces ahead before she notices. "'Course, if that's the case, sure would be nice if they'd write my thesis for me because right now I got <em>lorem ipsum</em> and not much else ... Hey, you okay?"</p><p>"F-fine," says Ami. "I should - I'd better get home. Before I collapse. So tired."</p><p>"Ah, low on energy?" The TA grins, and it looks uncannily like Nephrite's old confidence. Except that Nephrite is <em>dead</em>. Also not a woman. Well, that she knows of. Also, <em>dead!</em> "I get it. Sometimes I'm just minimum energy potential for the whole day. Really wish there were some kinda magic way to boost that. Well, you take care, yeah? Nice seeing you around!" With a wink and a wave, she turns on her heels, sauntering off with her hands in her pockets <em>exactly like Nephrite used to</em>.</p><p>Ami watches long enough to make sure she doesn't get into a red sports car and drive off. But the mirage isn't that strong, and ultimately the TA's a broke grad student like all grad students, not <em>Masato goddamn Sanjouin.</em></p><p>The horrible thought strikes her: what if these dreams <em>do</em> mean something? What if her sex dreams about Zoisite were just one more piece of evidence? She'd thought she was attracted to the TA because the TA looked like Makoto. What if it's because she looked like <em>Nephrite?!</em></p><p>But, it's not like it was with the Jadeite-lookalike who wasn't at the Starbucks, because the TA actually exists, Ami <em>knows</em> she did. (Did she? She did, didn't she?)</p><p>Ami should go to the library and start her prelab but instead she races home to fetch her supercomputer, to return and sneak by the Astronomy building so she can duck under the TA's office window and scan her from outside.</p><p>But by the time she's retrieved the supercomputer, the TA is already gone for the evening.</p><p>Next Wednesday, Ami tells herself, she'll be prepared, she'll keep the computer on her.</p><p>--</p><p>And it's a good thing she keeps it with her, too, because that Friday during her Advanced Biochem lab as she's asking the lab assistant about the bonus question on the prelab work (that nobody else did, apparently) he references her pendant. "Ignore the red strands, the ddTTP tags," he says, "about the colour of your pendant -"</p><p>Ami frowns. "My pendant is green," she murmurs. Feeling a little absurd, she looks down just to check.</p><p>There, smack dab in the middle of the green with black speckling, is a magenta-red blotch the size of a dime, taking up a quarter of the gem.</p><p>Luckily, the lab assistant doesn't notice her utter shock, he's busy speaking. "Oh, sure, not all of it," he's saying, "I meant the red part. The green's your ddATP, so your mutagenesis takes the adenine to guanine, so just pay attention to the primers' temperature in the thermocycler when you're methylating ..."</p><p>He continues on, but she's fixated on the red part. The red part that <em>has never been there before</em>.</p><p>Dazed, she makes her way back to her lab table. Her work's finished, the extra credit is all she's waiting on now, and there's another few minutes for the thermocycler to finish on that before she can cultivate. So, even though she's in class and she despises losing concentration during her classes - look, she's no Keith - it's not a loss to sit down numbly and take a moment just to breathe.</p><p>With everybody else's attention distracted, she retrieves the supercomputer from her bag. Quickly she spins it up and runs a scan.</p><p>Nothing. Same pendant, same composition. She's even saved the energy profile from months ago and it matches to within 99.95%. Nothing has changed.</p><p>Except that there is definitely a red spot on the previously-not-red pendant.</p><p>Ami rubs her thumb over it, wondering if it's ink or something, but it doesn't rub off. From the cool, smooth feel of it, it's part of the rock, alright.</p><p>The supercomputer's already out, she may as well run a few more tests. They come back negative, so she runs some more. And then she brings up the general search, too, to see if any other rocks are like this. 'Anyolite' and 'colour-change' doesn't bring anything up, and neither does 'gemstones colour-change'. Well, except for those that have chatoyant properties, like tiger's eye, or labradorite, or opal, but this isn't those, she's pretty sure.</p><p>Some stones do change colour in response to an optical wavelength difference. Ami looks up at the lab ceiling. Fluorescents, looks like. Annoyingly warm colour temperature, too. Maybe that's why it looks funny in this spectrum.</p><p>But then she brings it over to the window, in broad daylight, on a sunny day, and the red spot remains even when sunbeams are dancing over it.</p><p>When Ami gets back to her station, she finds that she's left the thermocycling too long on the hot setting given the current water flow, which has pushed her samples past their highest advisable temperature.</p><p>Certainly, it's possible not all of the reactants were affected, and maybe she can still cultivate - she won't know until it grows or doesn't grow, and she won't even be able to tell until the spectroscopic measurements! It's not a total loss! Possibly. Maybe. But her anxiety quickly conflagrates and all she can see is the panic: she's ruined her experiment. Over <em>nothing</em>.</p><p>She has a moment of rage and she can't even direct it anywhere - it's her own fault she botched up the lab! She doesn't have a partner, just her own damn self that got too distracted by making a big mystery out of something mundane.</p><p>"All this because of you," she scolds the pendant softly, "just look at what you've done!"</p><p>It doesn't reply, because it's a pendant. A dumb rock.</p><p>In its glossy reflection she sees the silhouette of her own hair. <em>Just look at what you've done</em> is right, she's got no one to blame but herself! Irrational as it is, though, she's still mad at the stone.</p><p>At least this part of the lab was only for extra credit. Ami's already pulling 100% in this class. Guess she doesn't <em>need</em> the extra 20%.</p><p>--</p><p>Classes and lab duties very quickly ramp up, and it's not for another four Wednesdays that Ami makes contact with the Astronomy TA who looks like some blend of Makoto and Nephrite and who has thoroughly confused Ami's sexuality. The easiest route winds up being:<br/>
a) packing up extremely slowly after her lecture, and retrieving the supercomputer from her bag into her pocket,<br/>
b) waiting for everyone else to file out of the room,<br/>
c) setting the supercomputer to scan on her way out the door,<br/>
d) running into the TA and walking back with her to the Astronomy building,<br/>
e) trying not to jump out of her skin when their hands accidentally brush,<br/>
f) claiming to walk back home,<br/>
g) telling the pretty TA that no, she doesn't need someone to help her home, she's fine on her own,<br/>
h) ducking behind a bush the second she's out of sight to analyse the results.</p><p>It's not for another three days that Ami realises she was possibly being flirted with. It doesn't matter, in any case, the TA isn't showing any anomalies on the supercomputer scans, and Ami doesn't really have time for romantic entanglements, especially seeing what it's done to her coworker Thanh's work schedule. Ami has spent too long, and too much energy, on this already!</p><p>--</p><p>It's not until the second half of the summer semester that Ami realises she could have at least made a friend. A chance had fallen right in her lap, and she blew it.</p><p>But by that time, it's too late, because the TA's schedule has changed, and Ami's schedule has changed, and they don't cross paths anymore.</p><p>Between her four remaining courses at double-speed and work, where would she stick the time anyway.</p><p>If she cries herself to sleep for a night, hugging the pendant close to her chest, a pang in her ribcage and miserable void eating away at her, no one has to know.</p><p>--</p><p>Late that August, Thanh drops a bombshell on Ho Yan by giving her his two weeks' notice. His girlfriend got accepted to a program in Vancouver, on the other side of the country, and since he's besotted he's moving with her. Ho Yan's upset because September is upon them and the second those fall and winter students come back to campus (summer is always deserted) they're going to be packed. Shimano Sushi could make a lot of money, assuming they can get someone trained in time. So there's nothing Ho Yan can do but hire someone new.</p><p>Which she doesn't do.</p><p>"But I can't work Thanh's hours," protests Ami. She doesn't have class or lab then, because Ho Yan made her give a copy of her school schedule. But when will she sleep?</p><p>"You'll find a way to work them or I'll find someone to work <em>your</em> hours," says Ho Yan. "I don't have time to hire someone new, and it would cost too much money anyway." She grumbles further, "Boss wants to see a certain return this quarter and we won't get that if we hire someone legal."</p><p>"So," says Ami meekly, "so couldn't you just hire someone else like me? I'm sure there's people who would work for that."</p><p>Ho Yan's tone turns icy. "Are you suggesting I replace you? Because I can do that tomorrow, and you'll be out, and good luck going anywhere else."</p><p>Ami shuts up.</p><p>This is the problem with not working legally. You have absolutely no protection, and your boss knows it, and your boss doesn't mind using that bit of power.</p><p>She wishes desperately she could say something. Her fists clench with the force of keeping her temper under control.</p><p>Something inside her whispers, <em>wouldn't it be nice to just stop being so nice?</em> Her heart pounds so hard she can feel it thrumming up against her pendant, pressed close to her sternum by her bra.</p><p>Instead she says, "OK," and gets back to work, lucky to have gotten a break at all today.</p><p>Thanh is having a going-away party that weekend to celebrate, and insists that everybody from work come, too. "Bring whoever you want," he says, and he says it so cheerily and excitedly that Ami finds it trickier than usual to say no. But the last time she went to a party, it went okay, didn't it? Mamoru's reading week party was actually pretty good. Maybe she's getting better at this whole party thing.</p><p>Mamoru, unfortunately, has flown home to Japan. &lt;Caught a good deal on airfare, couldn't pass it up,&gt; he texts back. &lt;But Ami, I'm so proud of you for going. This is fantastic news, please enjoy!!&gt; And there go Ami's hopes of sneaking out of it.</p><p>The Saturday arrives and of course, she's working that day, so Thanh sees her at Shimano Sushi and wheedles her about it all the way to the back of house.</p><p>Well, it's one hour. What harm could it be.</p><p>Thanh's girlfriend is a chipper girl named Jie Lai. She seems nice, and Thanh is nice too, but Thanh and Jie Lai both social butterfly themselves all around the flat to greet people, since it's the last time they'll see any of them for a while, possibly ever. So the only person Ami is left with is Somsak.</p><p>Which isn't great.</p><p>But actually, not as bad as it could be, because Somsak is just as awkward as she is in crowds and the two of them wallflower it up in a small corner. Somsak seems eternally grateful for a friend's company and fetches them drinks, taking the opportunity to relieve Thanh of his collection of liquor, which he can't bring with him on the flight anyway.</p><p>"Here," says Somsak, "a creation of my very own."</p><p>Ami takes a cautious sip. It's sweet, mostly, but there's a bitter aftertaste, and then it's almost... sweet again? "What's in it?"</p><p>"Gin, grape brandy, club soda, strawberry liqueur, and a dash of balsamic vinegar," says Somsak proudly. "You'd think it'd be disgusting, but it's actually pretty good, eh?"</p><p>It's certainly unique. If it's got club soda Ami would have expected it to be fizzy, and it's not, but maybe the club soda's gone flat, because Thanh had an evening shift but Jie Lai has been partying since 3 pm.</p><p>As the night goes on Somsak gets a little too drunk, has himself an epiphany or three ranting about the friendzone, and lays his head on her shoulder. Poor guy, she thinks, he must be pretty tired. But so is Ami; she said she'd leave two hours ago and instead she's had two of these strange concoctions, and she's feeling less buzzed and more heavy-headed herself. Tomorrow's Sunday, so she hasn't got her usual excuse of a lab, but she wants to hit the library early to get a head start on next semester's courses, since Ho Yan plans on stealing whatever free time she's got left. She needs to sober up before she sleeps.</p><p>"Gotta piss," mumbles Somsak, but he doesn't move.</p><p>Ami pushes him off. "Well, find a bathroom, not here!" she says, laughing, hoping that he's joking. He doesn't laugh, but staggers to his feet and shuffles away.</p><p>Now's her chance for some water, which she'd asked for awhile ago and which Somsak had pulled a face, saying he didn't want to drink alone. She stands and...</p><p>And immediately collapses back on the wall for support.</p><p>Her legs are shakier than she'd expected, and the room is spinning, and she feels <em>way</em> more drunk than she thought she was. Someone nearby catches sight. "Hey, you okay? Ami, right?"</p><p>Ami's embarrassed to admit it takes a minute to remember this girl's name. Qiying? No, Shuqin. She's one of Jie Lai's friends, not Thanh's. Ami shakes her head. There's a lethargy, but she's pretty sure it's caused by two hours of sitting down and drinking, and suddenly standing. Somsak's a creep, but he wouldn't go that far. (Would he?)</p><p>"Yes," she stammers at last. "I'm fine. Just, uh. Maybe get some club soda. I've got to get home soon."</p><p>"Sure thing," says Shuqin, and she takes Ami by the arm to lead her into the kitchen, where Ami finds there isn't any club soda to be found, only vodka. Well, that explains why she's so drunk off <em>two</em> drinks.</p><p>She's not thrilled Somsak lied, and her inhibitions are just lowered enough in her intoxication that she's almost tempted to track him down and give him a piece of her mind, if only it weren't for the fact that it feels like it's busy flowing out her ears. It explains a lot, like the fact that it's just hit her suddenly now.</p><p>She tries to concentrate. Well, the fact that she <em>can</em> concentrate is a good sign. The last concoction Somsak made, she drank thirty minutes ago. Anything chemical would have taken effect by now. And there's a clear linear memory sequence from earlier this evening 'til now, so no disorientation.</p><p>Just, she's <em>really</em> too drunk to deal with this.</p><p>Ami drinks a full glass of tap water, gives Shuqin a bleary grateful smile, and heads for the door. "Hey, whoa, are you <em>sure</em> you're okay to leave like this," asks Shuqin. "You didn't drive, did you?"</p><p>"I'm fine," says Ami. "I walk, I don't live far." She shakes her head some more to clear it a little, like a dog drying itself off, and it helps. She finds her shoes amid the massive pile and prepares to leave. Someone behind her says something - it doesn't sound like Shuqin. Thanh, maybe? "'Bye!" Ami calls. "Nice party, thank you! Good luck in Cancun!"</p><p>"Vancouver," someone says drily beside her.</p><p>"Yes," Ami agrees, "Cancuver, nice place. So nice!"</p><p>She's wobbly on the stairs down, and has to lean on the railing but the more she walks, the better she feels, truly. The night air is a balmy 27 degrees, cool only with respect to what it was earlier that day (over 40 and practically tropical).</p><p>Ami looks up from time to time. Clear skies. A little hazy, and not much to see in this area of town where there's so much light pollution, but she can make out the planet Mars. (Mercury is invisible to the naked eye, and anyway, like Venus it would have gone down hours ago, with the sun. See? Look how amazing Astronomy class is, how much you can learn, when you have a hot lady Nephrite as your TA.)</p><p>But it <em>was</em> nice, being around people, even if it was a little loud. Even if Somsak was there, but he wasn't all that bad, was he?</p><p>If she squints, she can almost pretend like she has friends. At long last.</p><p>Ami spins lazily, looking up at the canopy of speckled black until they whirl, the pattern spiralling, hypnotising. "I keep doing this, I'll make myself sick," she mutters aloud, then giggles. Someone beside her laughs.</p><p>She must have knocked into someone, or maybe sidestepped to successfully avoid. She's not sure. The moment after the interaction happens it's already forgotten, like her memory is a sieve. She gets back to the main road and walks quickly to keep in a straight line. There's a warm pressure at her side that somehow seems to help to rein her in. Some part of her tells her to question it. The drunk part of her tells her otherwise.</p>
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</div><p>From here, it's a routine path back to her place. The stairs up to her flat are harder inside the house, and Ami finds herself leaning on the wall for support. The wall is warm with long curly caramel hair, giving an affectionate chuckle. Life is nice.</p><p>Once in her flat, she closes the door and sinks down to a sitting position. A pounding ringing in her ears. The silence, she feels, it must be the sudden silence after so much noise.</p><p>Ami picks herself up to grab a glass of water, which she downs. Like rote she goes through her evening ablutions - automatic processes, she hardly remembers them afterward, and collapses into bed without getting into pyjamas. But bed is soft, and warm, and she's so tired.</p><p>But she can't sleep.</p><p>She tosses and turns for what feels like an hour but according to the clock on her supercomputer (when did she grab that?) isn't more than ten minutes.</p><p>The scan data from the Astronomy TA is the last thing she viewed. There's no camera on the machine so it didn't scan any pictures (ah, what a shame) - only values, readings, numbers.</p><p><em>If it had taken pictures, what would you do with them?</em> Maybe flip through them. Maybe touch herself to them.</p><p>But that's not something Ami could ever do, is it?</p><p>Michiru's words of advice from forever ago come back to her. <em>Did you try watching anything? It's really not difficult, a stupid amount of the world does it, you'd hardly be alone. It'd be one way to figure out who you're looking at.</em></p><p>Ami giggles. She <em>couldn't!</em></p><p>She really couldn't.</p><p>Couldn't she?</p><p>She sits up in bed so fast it makes her head spin and her heart lurch. Within seconds she's at her computer, not even knowing where to search or what to search for. The private browsing mode is now her best friend.</p><p>She finds one site and clicks. It's garish almost in a hilarious way. The thumbnails show a sped-up version of the contents of the video and they look truly ridiculous, the positions people are in. She clicks on one almost at random, muting it immediately.</p><p>A girl and a boy, most of the focus on the girl. The boy is - well, he's hardly visible. He has darker skin than his costar, but that's all that she can really see. Ami takes a more anatomical eye to him, his sizable musculature, the length and thickness of his cock. Very light pubic hair dusting his testicles - a light shade, almost white? That's curious. And he looks dehydrated, honestly, Ami pities him a little.</p><p>The girl, meanwhile, is blond, with glossy ringlet curls tied back in a loose ponytail. She has small breasts, which ... which. Actually. That kind of <em>works</em> for Ami. The girl is heavily made-up but somehow, it accentuates her green eyes and her wicked, cruel smile. She wears impractical heels and a <em>very</em> short skirt. The boy, offscreen, turns her over and lifts the hem to expose a perky but shapely rear, with no underwear. They get straight to business, and the girl's face contorts in a moan. Just as Ami thinks it's hard to see from this angle, the camera angle shifts and, there it is, up close and personal, the boy's cock pushing inside her, then pulling out, in a fast punishing rhythm.</p><p>How does that <em>feel</em>, she wonders. He's not really teasing. Surely there's foreplay that happened off-screen. Ami can't tell whether the girl is aroused. She'd be slick if she were, wouldn't she? It'd come up on screen.</p><p>The boy leans down, still not enough to be seen in camera, and grabs his co-star by the breast. He pinches the nipple between two fingers. That, Ami deduces, must be pleasurable, for the girl looks at the camera, her mouth wide open in a silent scream, eyes clenched.</p><p>The girl opens her eyes, and -</p><p>And Ami is instantly transported back years to the day they met Minako, the day Zoisite dressed up as Sailor Moon and paraded around Tokyo to draw their attention. He'd looked <em>exactly</em> like this! Those eyes, those sneering lips, laughing at her, even though this position is nothing like she'd ever have imagined him in, bent over on his knees, supported by his bent elbows, a tanned hand at his nipples, pinching them.</p><p>In fact - that <em>is</em> Zoisite.</p><p>Ami blinks to clear her eyes, hoping the mirage will go away, but it doesn't. The camera shots on the penetration now no longer feature a vulva but an anus, stretched enough to accomodate cock. Ami's cheeks are red-hot but she cannot look away, and Zoisite's cock is similarly <em>right there</em>, hard and bobbing between his thighs with every thrust. Then the camera shifts and she gets close-ups of Zoisite's face. Between obvious groans of pleasure, he taunts her with rude expressions, peevishly sticking his tongue out at her, waving it lasciviously like he's lapping at a sweet, leering at her from behind the camera and licking his lips.</p><p>Then he stares right into the lens and says, "Why, darling Mercury, whatever are <em>you</em> doing?"</p><p>Ami gasps and pushes herself away from the desk. But the computer is still playing the video and she quickly moves to close the window to make it go away at all costs.</p><p>A moment passes and all she can do is pant as she struggles to control herself, too frozen to do anything else but sit there and fight for calmness to slowly return. She can't scream, it's two in the morning, but she feels a frenetic energy in her jaw begging for a good shriek.</p><p>Well! She's definitely sober now!</p><p>She hadn't paid attention to what she clicked on, evidently. It's the only explanation. Or it's her stress getting to her. After all, she's already seen who she thought was Jadeite and had a crush on who she thought was Nephrite (but also a lady). So now she sees who she thought was a lady but is actually Zoisite? Yes, that fits! She's sure she'll see Kunzite next too, collect all four! Ami inhales a long drag of air and exhales it slowly. Ridiculous, but it's the most rational explanation.</p><p>But ... but she had muted the video. She knew she had, and yet she had heard his voice, its countertenor snobbishness and all, clear as day.</p><p>It's not possible. It's not possible!!</p><p>She takes her pendant in hand and rubs it like a talisman. It helps wonders, and the tension leaves her in waves, lapping away. In its place is an immense lassitude, and the bed is right there, so she may as well try and get some sleep.</p><p>She tosses and turns for fifteen minutes. Her limbs are heavy, her eyelids are anchors, but she can't seem to get under no matter how hard she tries.</p><p>Her last resort is her usual last resort, but this time she has to wrack up the courage for it like she hasn't had to do in months since she started masturbating herself to sleep. Silence in the apartment. No one around. A faint bass pumping from the apartment two floors down, but other than that it might as well be crickets.</p><p>She puts her hand in her panties and strokes until she's wet enough on her own to make it pleasurable, and arousal comes back to her in a flood. She's grateful for it, honestly, something to think about that isn't fear or shock or stress. Maybe this was a good idea.</p><p>She wonders about penetration again, and slips her fingers down to insert the tip of one. It's so foreign a feeling, she can't decide whether it's good or not. Sensitive, certainly. The in-out movement has a certain allure to it, there's evidently nerve-endings there. And she's curious, she craves the knowledge. She tries for deeper, tries to see if there are any of those coveted spots she's heard about. But if there are, she can't seem to reach deep enough on her own. Her fingers are only so long.</p><p>No matter. She returns to her clit and strokes it until she's so slick she can hear it, until she can hear her pulse in her ears, trying to cover up the sound of Zoisite's voice.</p><p>And it works except that now his image invades her attention, like it did in the dream where he lay on top of her, pushing his cock inside her languorously, like they had all the time in the world.</p><p>Stop it, she thinks, I can't think of him, I won't think of him, not like this, not now! With one hand she rubs the pendant, clutched tight in her fist; with the other she rubs herself, so hot for it that she's begun to cant her hips up, as though begging for more, as though begging for the feel of him upon her, of him <em>in</em> her, of him everywhere, pressing her down and fucking her, his mocking face next to hers and his voice at last in her ears, half-wheedling, half-haughty: <em>yes, that's it, come for me now, good girl</em>.</p><p>Ami comes so hard she moans aloud, a short, sharp cry that echoes in her empty apartment. Her hips keep bucking, as orgasm lasts and lasts this time, each contraction eternal around the <em>ghost</em> of something hard inside her. She tilts her head to the side and arches her back with one final not-thrust, and the pendant rolls out of her grasp to fall at her lips, a kiss away.</p><p>Her eyes drift open. Evidently she must still be a little drunk, because the bathroom mirror is just visible enough from this angle that she can spot a vision of Zoisite again in its frame. There is no one in the bathroom, just him and just in the mirror, so she knows it can't possibly be real. This time he doesn't leave, studying her for minutes with his arms folded over his delicate chest, with one arm extended upwards, his dainty gloved hand hiding that smug, knowing smile of his.</p><p>Ami turns over, rolling onto her other side so as not to see.</p><p>--</p><p>Sunday morning it genuinely seems like all a fever dream and she's happy to labour under that delusion and buckle down to get some work done, until she gets to work Monday morning and it all comes crashing down.</p><p>"Can you go grab Somsak for me?" asks Ho Yan. "He's sulking in the back."</p><p>So Ami does. In the back of house Somsak is on an overturned milk crate sitting glumly with his phone out, swiping intermittently left and right. "Ho Yan would like to talk to you," she says.</p><p>"You didn't even say goodbye at Thanh's party," grumbles Somsak. He doesn't look up from his phone.</p><p>"Oh, I'm sorry," says Ami innocently. "I thought I had."</p><p>"Yeah, well, you didn't." Somsak's tone of voice is mulish and something about its neediness has Ami annoyed.</p><p>"<em>You're</em> the one who gave me far too much to drink," she says.</p><p>Finally he looks up at her. "Not like it was a big deal! You're the one who drank it!"</p><p>"<em>Really,</em>" says Ami. She's this close to calling him out for getting her overdrunk on purpose.</p><p>"And then you walk out with some floozy with cartoonish hair! Pretty skanky behaviour if you ask me," he says, with scathing frostiness.</p><p>Floozy?! "You're being unfair, and that never happened!"</p><p>"Am I? So you didn't sleep with him?"</p><p>This baffles Ami. She knows Somsak is interested but she's never shown any hint of reciprocation and that was by design! Shouldn't he have begun to look elsewhere? What more does she have to <em>do</em> to tell him she's not interested!? "What does - that doesn't <em>matter</em>. First of all, it's none of your concern, we are <em>coworkers</em>, and second of all, who are you even talking about? I spent <em>the whole party</em> with you!" So perhaps a little annoyance has escaped her, as she's starting to lose her cool. She takes in a deep breath to remain rational. "You'd think that'd be enough," she adds.</p><p>"Well, it wasn't," says Somsak. "I thought -"</p><p>He cuts himself off.</p><p>Ami is on the brink of snapping. He thought what? He thought he'd get her drunk enough for - for what, exactly? It's on the tip of her tongue to really let him have it, make him spell it out for her, reveal to her exactly what an asshole he is.</p><p>But saying all that wouldn't allow him to save face, it's not polite. And she has to <em>work</em> with him. And she's not legally working, and he knows that.</p><p>So Ami says nothing, and she pays the price of her cheeks burning in indignation for it.</p><p>"Stupid," says Somsak. "I was only hoping to walk you home." But Somsak's lied before, he'll lie again, and Ami can't trust him. "But then there's this stupid twink of a guy waiting outside to walk you home. I shouldn't've bothered, could've spent time on anyone else at the party."</p><p>"I thought you spent time with me because we were friends," says Ami, "isn't that what you said?"</p><p>"Oh, don't even get me started about the friendzone," Somsak hisses. "Here you are, leading me on, and all the while you have this guy come pick you up."</p><p>"I did nothing of the sort!" Ami says. "I left alone!"</p><p>"You said you knew him," Somsak says, accusing her. "You called him Zoisite, what kind of a stupid name is that?!"</p><p>He storms out, grabbing his apron on the way by, and Ami is left in utter, paralysing shock.</p><p>She does not remember <em>any</em> of this.</p><p>And this is starting to alarm her.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The quote about the incubus is taken not from some proper text but from Kamelot's Poetry for the Poisoned. :x yeah.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. third year (part one)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It's become patently obvious that Ami is having insurmountable difficulty with the workload and the stress, and that it's obviously getting to her. She's been in the library for an hour now with an open notebook to an empty page, and her pen is waiting, expectant, and her books are neatly stacked beside her, and she doesn't touch a single one, preferring to fondle the pendant back and forth in her hands.</p><p>She should deal with these things. These visions. This stress. But she doesn’t. Instead her final year's about to start and if she wants to graduate on time, a year early, she needs to take six courses this semester, and five the next. That'll be enough for a specialisation with two minors, and she has to make it work. She has to, or she's done all of this for <em>nothing.</em></p><p>Part of why she doesn't deal with these things is because she has no idea <em>how</em> to deal with these things. Go seek therapy? If navigating another country's mental health services weren't difficult enough, how the hell could she tell someone about relevant context? This isn't just some guy she saw at a bar one time, this is a dead Dark Kingdom Shitennou! This is a young man about her age who wasn't even human, or if he was human was reanimated by negative energy, who gleefully plotted the downfall of the Earth, and it was her duty to battle him with a team of sister-friends that dress up in cutesy sailor uniforms! She yells Mercury Shabon Spray and her enemies can't <em>see!</em></p><p>No, she can't tell anyone about this, they'd commit her.</p><p>She could tell the girls... they'd understand the context, at least...</p><p>No. No, she <em>can't</em> tell the girls, she can't tell the girls about any of this! Rei's probably best for spirituality and mental health support but she'd be so angry if she knew Ami was having sex dreams about Zoisite, masturbating to him. She can't tell any of the girls what has become of her, this unnatural lust. This is impossible. No, she can't tell any of them.</p><p>This is so big. If what Somsak said is true then either Ami is seeing Zoisite so strongly that in her drunkenness she identified a random person and superimposed Zoisite's face, just like she thought she saw Jadeite, but it wasn't really him... or Zoisite was actually there and Somsak <em>saw him</em>.</p><p>That can't be true, obviously.</p><p>But snatches of memory of that night have Zoisite flitting in and out of them as she walks home in her intoxicated state. There was Zoisite at her side, arm-in-arm, and to the rest of the city they looked like lovers; there was Zoisite helping her up the stairs. Maybe when she heard his voice, he really was behind her. What a terrifying thought.</p><p>The worst part is Ami can't seem to trust her own mind anymore, her own experiences, her own senses. Maybe not even her own reactions, because if she saw someone like Zoisite on the street, what she should have done was attack first question later, not <em>let him walk her home</em>. Zoisite's so many times more dangerous than Somsak!</p><p>How could she possibly deal with this?!</p><p>The other part is that... not only does Ami not know how to deal with these things, there is a shame so horrible that comes from all this, it makes her just want to turn her head away. It's much too big, too troublesome, so why even start? Act like it's not happening. If she doesn't see it, it's not there.</p><p>By not dealing with these things, Ami has the curious sensation of being a copilot in a cruising airplane, with no knowledge of how to land and no one more experienced to take over. For now, it's fine to let the autopilot handle it, they're in cruising altitude. But she has hours before they run out of gas and at some point she'll have to pick up that manual that's lying on the open copilot chair. And the manual is huge, so many pages, and she can't possibly read it all in time and know the relevant information. Even though knowing relevant information and being able to regurgitate it when necessary is <em>her entire identity</em>. It's all she's good for!</p><p>But instead Ami sits there, waiting placidly for the plane to nosedive. Blithely observing her own demise.</p><p>A creeping terror has started to set in.</p><p>The pendant is pretty much always in her hand now, the lone safeguard that remains to her. The red blotch has grown, and that can't be explained, but no matter how much she rubs it, it doesn't come off, so it must be part of the stone. Perhaps it periodically waxes and wanes, like the phases of the moon. It's gibbous now, taking up half the stone in the centre, a red pupil to a green eye.</p><p>"At least I know <em>you're</em> real," she tells it.</p><p>"No talking in the stacks," says a passing librarian.</p><p>--</p><p>It takes a full day's back-and-forthing to resolve to make an appointment with a counselor. They'll probably tell Ami to stop taking so many classes! (But, maybe that's for the best if she needs an extra semester.) This feels like failure! (But, no one tells all the other students, the Kimikos, the Preeyadas, the Keiths, that they have to do it in 3 years or less or admit defeat. Only Ami has put that pressure on herself.) Ami <em>should</em> put pressure on herself, she's doing nothing else here and has no friends so she has no excuses!</p><p>She heaves a sigh before heading into Regulatory Networks and Systems. She'll make an appointment right after class. For now, she's content to put away all thoughts of her hallucinations and just enjoy it, because she's been excited for this class since last summer.</p><p>Then it all blows up in her face.</p><p>"Yeah, we can't really have a class if it's just two of us," says Cameron.</p><p>"<em>What?</em>" Ami says shakily. "You mean -"</p><p>"No one else signed up for it but you," he replies. "I was kinda hoping more people would show up, see if they like it, and then stick around."</p><p>"B-but, but don't you get paid as a student lecturer, no matter what?" Ami's aware she's begging. Ami has stopped caring. The shock has become too great.</p><p>Cameron shrugs. "If you want to go grab some of your fellow fourth-years, maybe you can make it happen. Get at least five friends, we can teach for six, minimum. Otherwise, doesn't satisfy requirements for ArtSci faculty. Don't blame me, blame admin. It just be like that, man."</p><p>"But <em>that won't work!</em>" she shrieks, slamming her hands on the table. Cameron blinks; he did not sign up to get yelled at by a type-A bookish brat when he started his PhD in epidemiology but that's neither here nor there, Ami's pissed because this throws everything into disorder and disorder isn't something she can cope with right now when everything <em>else</em> is already falling apart.</p><p>This wasn't just the best plan, it was the only plan - it's why she took Mammalian Molecular Biology and Advanced Biochem Methods and why she didn't take Biological Rhythms which would've meant she could have taken Advanced Topics in Biological Rhythms but she didn't because this course was supposed to happen but it isn't happening and she can't backtrack that path now, she's set in and planned for this one and this course was supposed to be available!</p><p>And now this guy tells her that the only way she can fix it is to go ask her <em>friends!</em> Friends she <em>doesn't have!</em> Might as well tell her to develop a time machine, go back in time, learn some social skills, magically become popular, rewrite the timeline so that she's the Ami that people actually want to have around, not the one they're always needing! These things like her schedule need to work out because she's the one who made them work because she's bright and clever and <em>sometimes she thinks that's all she is</em>, and if they don't work then she's failed at the <em>one thing she knows how to do and be and what good is she, then?</em></p><p>Most of this she's pretty sure she keeps inside and doesn't blurt out, the way she did with Mamoru. But she can't tell, because her heart is racing, her throat gripped by some unseen force, her vocal chords feel fried and taut, her head is light and vision blurry ... oh, she might pass out ...</p><p>Ami sits heavily back down.</p><p>"Oooh-kay," says Cameron. "Well... look. If that doesn't work out, you can always take the RNS course material but as a research course." Her face falls - research courses? Those courses listed at the back of the catalogue without any description? They seem more like a way to get a school grade assigned based on work you did elsewhere! And nice work if you're an intern, Ami's not going to get graded on how well she gives customers their meals at Shimano Sushi. "You've got great performance in the labs, and I've graded your tests, you get top grades."</p><p>Yes, thinks Ami, top grades. The only things that seem to make her <em>her</em>. She feels wretched. In an effort not to start crying she turns her gaze to the window, where a group of people are walking into the building, no doubt late for a class that <em>isn't</em> cancelled.</p><p>She's so convinced she'll see a Shitennou among them, but doesn't. Come on, visions, she thinks, where are you when I need to vent?</p><p>"I mean," Cameron adds, "it'd be really great for your career, too. It'd only be a four month research course, but you might get a paper out of it. If you want to go on to academia, it'd look amazing on your CV."</p><p>This has her perked up. "You'd do that?" she says.</p><p>"Not me," says Cameron. "PhD students can't supervise undergrad research courses. Dr Bennett, though, he's always looking for students." He looks Ami up and down and decides something. "Y'know, he's probably in the office right now. If you want, I can introduce you. Then it's not such a cold call asking him for a research course out of the blue."</p><p>At once elated with promise and crushed in misery, Ami follows him like a baby bird imprinted on a mother, pendant in hand. (At this rate she'll worry a groove into the centre of it where her thumb goes. Maybe skin oil and oxidation are why it turns red.)</p><p>Dr Bennett is middle-aged and Black, with a Southern US accent and thick horn-rimmed glasses, the kind that look chic on someone twenty years his junior but on him look professorly. He's standoffish and hard to read, in that academic kind of way, and if he has a sense of humour it doesn't really come out. "Why, certainly," he says, "we're always looking for people to do some data processing -"</p><p>"Ami's more into the research side of things," says Cameron. Ami looks up at him; he gives her a wink. "It'd be great to get some more hands-on experience with something a little less mindless? Maybe model a regulatory network?"</p><p>"Well, that's a bit advanced for an undergrad," says Dr Bennett. "Let's walk before we can run. Tell you what, I've got a paper out last year on modelling enhancers, if you can reimplement that clustering algorithm at the code linked on - oh, let's say, Drosophila - and recover the AP patterning, then we'll talk. Say same time next week?"</p><p>"S-sounds great," says Ami.</p><p>And at least her library haunting has been good for something - she actually knows what he's talking about. At least, the biology side of it.</p><p>What she <em>doesn't</em> know is how his code works. Or how to code, besides that one class they made them take in first year. This would look so good for medical school applications, but it's more work than she has budgeted for.</p><p>But... if she cuts out sleep by 40%, and scales back on the studying in Pathogen Anthropology, Synaptic Neurobiology, and History of Evolutionary Biology - which is something of an easy course anyway, and in all of those she's read up on the course material until October - she can maybe devote Saturday evenings to this.</p><p>--</p><p>Ami makes it work, but it takes all her free time in the next week, and she only succeeds at ten to 3 am, the night before their meeting. Programming shouldn't be this hard, she's certain of it, especially when she's using someone else's code and all she's doing is reformatting it to a different species. But all the fine-tuning that's necessary, to say nothing how hard it was to download (so many errors!), has pushed all of her other obligations out the window.</p><p>Shimano Sushi has really become a drain. Somsak evidently hasn't forgiven her, and it's showing in their shifts together, but Ho Yan doesn't want to lose him <em>or</em> Ami and still hasn't hired anyone to replace Thanh. So it's the most awkward silence that reigns between them, and Somsak is dragging his heels on work because he knows he has leverage, so she's doing half his work, too. All Ami wants to do is ask about Zoisite - who did Somsak really see that night?</p><p>(Zoisite, damn him, has taken up a significant amount of Ami's headspace. She's seen him more than once across campus and has had to remind herself that it's not him, he doesn't exist, he's dead. That doesn't stop him from popping up like a spectre. It's unnerving, like those moments in the videogames where the monster is not chasing you, just watching you from the end of the hall, placidly waiting.)</p><p>In return for all this work, she gets the faintest scrap of praise from Dr Bennett. "This is pretty good," he says, looking over the final results. "It's too bad you couldn't get the plotter to work."</p><p>"Oh," says Ami, spirits plummeting, "I'm - it wasn't working under my environment." (Because she couldn't get it to work, because she <em>failed</em>.)</p><p>"Yeah, there's a known dependency issue when you set it up. I opened an issue for it months ago, but they haven't got to it yet, I guess. The output's fine, because I'm familiar with the code, but if it were the case that you were presenting this, you'd want your results to be code-independent." He clicks his tongue in satisfaction. "Well, Miss Ami, let's have you set up an account on the cluster. You can pick your project, if you want."</p><p>That doesn't give her much to go on. Ami spends the next week figuring out a project between what the group has done (so many publications!) and what she might be able to do, and hardly thinks about what she'd <em>like</em> to do. Everything seems so wide-field, like there are too many unknowns and she isn't really sure how to get started on a research question when everything seems like it needs its own project. In fact, everything seems like a PhD thesis, and she's looking for something for a matter of months. They settle on modelling the signalling function of yeast cells, and Ami's told to go to it and develop her own code by cribbing from others.</p><p>This takes time - a lot of time. But getting the code to work is difficult! She's not as good a programmer as she should be and she knows that, and getting up to speed on that is so time-consuming. Dr Bennett trusted her to have some computer science chops and some knowledge of machine learning, but scoring well in two neuroscience classes doesn't make one a neural network programmer. There's so much that she constantly feels she isn't sure where to start, but she also feels like she should know it by now, and is nervous about asking.</p><p>So she doesn't ask. Instead it takes her longer and longer to find the answers. And for the first time in her degree, Ami slips in her other courses and falls behind.</p><p>The second she realises that, she begins to panic - how could it already be October? And she hasn't even started on next week's readings? How has her queue of material run out already? The midterm for History of Evolutionary Biology is <em>next week!</em> The lab for Medical Microbiology is tomorrow and she hasn't started the prelab! It's not long, but it's the principle of the thing!</p><p>The pendant doesn't help, but coffee does. Nobody seems to remember her as the girl who stormed in and accused another customer of being dead. In fact, it seems like the entire staff has turned over in that time.</p><p>"Triple Americano for Ami," calls a mellifluous countertenor, and Ami doesn't even have to look up to know who it is. Today, Zoisite's the barista. He gives her a toothy and slightly menacing grin. "Have a nice day," he says, purring it like a taunting come-on.</p><p>You're a product of my overactive imagination, thinks Ami, and you <em>don't exist</em>.</p><p>"Thank you," says Ami.</p><p>--</p><p>As Ami struggles to manage keeping up in courses and her quickly-consuming research, the dreams keep coming. Worse, they've started coalescing now, taking form. In the library she zones out one afternoon in her sacred two hours before another lecture and sees herself, bent over, fucked into the stacks. Zoisite is behind her. He looks over at her - the real Ami - as he thrusts into the fake, imaginary Ami from behind. Imaginary Ami has her ass out in the air and one of Zoisite's hand's is gripping her hip, the other has her possessively by the back of the neck, shoving her into the bookshelves.</p><p>Imaginary Ami's eyes are closed, her mouth wide open. Zoisite looks over at her and catches her eye. Ami drops her gaze, but it lands on Zoisite's cock, the top inch of which she can see as it shoves into Imaginary Ami.</p><p>Ami should really stop watching something that isn't even there.</p><p>Fifteen whole minutes pass by and the vision never fades, it doesn't even flicker. He's got to get tired at some point, she thinks. Zoisite has moved Imaginary Ami around to fuck her from the side now, hoisting her up by one leg, lifting her like she's light as a feather when she knows she isn't and Zoisite (shirtless, shameless Zoisite) doesn't have much in the way of musculature. And <em>Ami</em> doesn't have that much flexibility!</p>
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</div><p>Ami crosses her legs to try and forget about the gnawing ache that's grown there. Really, she's got <em>work</em> to do.</p><p>--</p><p>But it's fruitless. Zoisite is everywhere now. He's in the grocery store queue checking out, buying instant ramen. He's in hallways between classes, he's sitting on a park bench. He's getting number 14 from the red food truck outside the Med Sci building (Ami hopes it gives him Imaginary Indigestion). He's in another corner of the library, he's watching her from the stacks, he's walking a tiny dog on College St, he's outside Shimano Sushi restaurant and watching her work through the window - not ordering anything, just watching her sweat and scurry around with people's orders! very rude! - he's one row behind her in a lecture, leaning forward to read her notes over her shoulder, breathing on the nape of her neck.</p><p>It's curious, isn't it, she wonders (when 2 am rolls around again and she's scrambling to prepare results for Dr Bennett that include a fraction of the work she'd hoped to do and that don't feel like she's really done or learnt anything because she got sidetracked having to figure out whether what she found was significant and whether she was even using the p-test correctly and what a random variable <em>really</em> is and is frequentist everything a good representation of the world?). It's curious that she only ever sees Zoisite. Jadeite, once. Nephrite - possibly? If the TA was Nephrite. Kunzite, a flash, what seems like forever ago.</p><p>But Zoisite - ah! Zoisite's in and out of her consciousness like he's in and out of her cunt in her daydreams, helping himself freely to both, and he never stops and it's exactly as edging and teasing as it sounds.</p><p>The worst was him provocatively sitting in a professor's chair while she lectures, his legs spread wide, his pants tight enough Ami can see the outline of his cock. Ami shouldn't even be looking, but what's it matter, he's a figment of her imagination anyway; she's convinced nobody else can see him.</p><p>And the <em>dreams</em> it's led to...</p><p>The dreams have gotten so frequent, so sexual. Almost overbearingly raunchy, they're no one but Zoisite now, no shadowy figures anymore. Ami wakes up panting in a cold sweat with heart palpitations, in both a good and bad way. If it weren't for how badly she needs sleep, she'd consider not sleeping at all - it's not worth it to plan a two hour nap and then be kicked into waking after twenty minutes because she's so frustrated. It's even more not worth it to masturbate herself back to sleep, because Zoisite shows up there too, in her fantasies. He's there in her bed, he's there with a hand between her legs, he's there with his fingers inside her, he's there with his hands cupping her small breasts as he drives his cock in to the hilt, the brush of his balls against her ass, her legs in the air spread wide open by his relentless hips, he's there, he's <em>everywhere</em>, and she can't run away anymore.</p>
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</div><p>She tries to twist her head out of his grasp when he kisses her but it's useless, he's too strong, and his tongue in her mouth tastes sulphurous, feels like fire... Ami is moaning now, so loud she can hear herself; she hopes the other flats can't but it's impossible to stop. With one hand down her pants and the other gripping the pendant, she doesn't have a free hand to cover her mouth and muffle her cries, so Zoisite covers it for her with his lips and his invasive, deft tongue. </p><p>Ami comes like a snapped rubber band and immediately feels humiliated.</p><p>That didn't happen. He didn't really kiss her, because he doesn't exist. Because he's not real.</p><p>So why can she taste the brimstone?</p><p>This can't keep going on and on.</p><p>Just make it to Christmas break, Ami tells herself. Then she'll fly home and she'll talk to someone, no matter how hard it will be.</p><p>--</p><p>Then Ami blanks on a midterm.</p><p>--</p><p>It's the stupidest class. History of Evolutionary Biology, what a joke! It's a <em>history</em> class in the middle of a very respectable biology degree and she can hardly see a use for it. Statistics, fine. Chemistry, sure. Physics, even! But a history class? Who cares about Darwin and Lamarck and Mendelian genetics and T.H. Morgan and who thought what about eugenics or the organisation of society!? If she cared about all that, she'd be a history student!</p><p>But her professor cares, and all of these questions on this multiple-choice midterm are looking at her and the text is swimming. The scantron page mocks her. Maybe if she colours in the bubbles to sketch out Zoisite's face she can punch it. Maybe if she sketches out her own face she can punch that, too.</p><p>She hasn't been to class this past week. There was a review that she missed because no review classes have been useful until now. But she realises that was different, because that was during the time when she practiced and studied so hard she'd know the entire course's contents before even stepping foot into the lecture hall on Day 1.</p><p>Instead, she's been fiddling about with code in the hopes of generating a result, a single graph, that might get into a paper that she could add her name to, and it's eaten twenty hours of her time because there was a bug somewhere, and she couldn't find it, so she started over from scratch. Instead, she did all that, so she doesn't know what Wallace thought about evolution by natural selection.</p><p>She can't answer that question. She can't answer <em>that</em> question. Or that one.</p><p>She can't answer any of the questions.</p><p>Rubbing the pendant does <em>nothing</em>.</p><p>Ami quietly files the Scantron page inside the exam booklet and hands it in the moment the first half hour has elapsed and students are permitted to start turning in their exams. The proctor - Leslie - looks over her work to make sure it's all there and frowns. "Um," she says. "What...?"</p><p>"I can't do this," Ami whispers, trembling. Tears have brimmed in her right eye, on the left, they've already spilled over. "I can't do this anymore."</p><p>She walks out of the exam hall, too ashamed to look back.</p><p>--</p><p>Ami walks home, dazed and confused, more on autopilot than anything else. She has another class tonight but she can't go, she can't face it. The notes are online, and it's not as good as having been to the lecture but she'll have to make it up some other time.</p><p>Home is silent, though, home feels safe, and there's no one here to judge her. (She closes the bathroom door so she doesn't have to look in the mirror and judge <em>herself</em>.) She should eat something but her stomach roils at the very thought of food, so she boils the kettle for tea.</p><p>Then she crumples against the wall and struggles not to hyperventilate. The kettle rumbles to life but the white noise it provides isn't enough to cover up her own thoughts. Within seconds she's struggling for breath, panting into her cupped hands, her fingertips ice cold. This frenetic energy has her wanting to scream, and she can't do that when the walls are this thin.</p>
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</div><p>She takes a bath instead. Now the white noise is loud enough. They have a pool on campus, don't they? Maybe they have time when people who aren't on the varsity swim team could do some laps. Maybe she could join the varsity swim team.</p><p>Ami's good for nothing academic so she might as well become full jock!</p><p>No, that's a dangerous and uncharitable thought. She doesn't have to be so impolite.</p><p><em>Fuck</em> being polite, honestly! Being so well-mannered and quiet and not-one-toe-out-of-place is what's gotten her into this mess! There's a longing inside her, sharp and acute and sorely neglected, that shrieks to be let out, begs to be seen, strives for some kind of attention. Attention that she usually gets with scholastic achievement.</p><p>Ami wants...</p><p>Ami wants to <em>break</em> something. She wants to crush something, rip it apart, tear it to pieces, just for the satisfaction of destruction. She wants to transform and use her powers as some outlet (an early winter, a little extra fog, an iced over field, that's nothing in this part of the country!).</p><p>She settles for dipping her head beneath the surface of the water and screaming until she runs out of breath. Maybe what she wants to destroy is herself. She keeps her head under until she can't breathe anymore, feeling heavy, feeling like the pendant keeps her underwater, but some self-preservation has her surfacing for air eventually.</p><p>When she finally leaves the bath, it's cold and her skin has pruned. She redresses in a housecoat and barely feels more relaxed. Maybe she should go for a run? Maybe she should have some tea. She busies herself with this simple domestic task.</p><p>The kettle has to be reboiled. She selects the good kind of tea, a little box of tetsukannon which in Canada has been marked 'tieguanyin' and was expensive, so it must be good. She'd bought this for a celebration - and some celebration this is! But maybe it will cheer her up, because she has to go back to school. She has to go back and pick up the midterm that will no doubt have a 0 on it, she has to face that music. She has to finish this degree, and that means making a new plan to figure out how to pick up the pieces from this mess. Step one is to get through today.</p><p>As she's turning around with a mug, Zoisite is there, leaning against the frame of the kitchen door. Ami's ready to roll her eyes - she really has no time for these visions today - but stops when Zoisite says, "So! The good stuff, is it? Must be bad. I expect you must've lost your cool."</p><p>Ami freezes. Zoisite saunters over lazily, until he's so close that she can feel his body heat, hear the sound of his boots on her kitchen floor, smell his breath when he bends to sneer at her face-to-face. "Why, darling Mercury," he says. "What a <em>shame</em>."</p><p>This is the first time he's spoken to her so directly. This, she did not imagine. This, she somehow knows is real.</p><p>She throws the tea in his face and ducks past him as he cries out. The mug smashes on the ground but she's already out the door and makes it nearly to the ground floor before she realises she's barefoot and practically nude, without keys or her transformation pen.</p><p>A second thought occurs to her. Didn't she say she wanted to break something? And there's Zoisite's pretty face, all up in her business!</p><p>How <em>dare</em> he invade her flat like that!</p><p>Without understanding how this has come about Ami marches right back up the stairs, stomping all the way. Another neighbour, a woman in her fifties, opens her door as Ami makes her way past. "Do you <em>mind</em>," she says.</p><p>Ami's ready to snap but the brief shaming has her instinctively apologetic. "Sorry," she says brusquely, and walks the rest of the way.</p><p>Zoisite's gone when she returns but there's elements of his having been there. The shards of the mug on the kitchen tile, the splash of tea. Everything else is normal.</p><p>Ami checks every crevice of the apartment. Nothing, there's no one.</p><p>It must be the visions, she figures. They're getting more realistic. Her mind is taking into account of things like physics now when she throws hot water in someone's face who isn't there, she imagines it bouncing back; she hears the echo of a voice bouncing off empty walls as she expects it might sound.</p><p>Maybe she was dreaming.</p><p>But the mug shards are there! She didn't just throw a mug on the ground for shits and giggles.</p><p>In disbelief, she sweeps it up and abandons the tea. It's hardly 6 pm but she's still too frenetic and can't calm down. She <em>definitely</em> can't calm down now.</p><p>Ami takes a shower this time, letting the hot water sluice over her face until it prunes her again. In fact, she'd love to remain there because it seems to be the one place Zoisite <em>doesn't</em> go. But that's probably enough on her water bill for this month.</p><p>She dries off, heads for bed, and tries to nap.</p><p>No dice.</p><p>She tosses and turns and doesn't feel tired. She feels <em>watched</em>, is what she feels. She looks around, and there's no one there, but somehow it's like Zoisite has left a trace of himself, and it's not just the pendant.</p><p>Slyly... she puts a hand to her waist. She hasn't bothered with clothes anyway, and maybe this will help her get to sleep.</p><p>"Tsk, tsk," says Zoisite, "what would they <em>say</em> of you, meek little mouse?"</p><p>It's in her head, it has to be. Oh, Ami <em>hears</em> it, she knows she does, but that’s an auditory hallucination and she's had those before. She scrunches her eyes closed, trying desperately to ignore the creeping feeling of there being someone in the apartment.</p><p>When the voice speaks next, it's uncomfortably close to her, low and syrupy. "Don't you have a class to get to?"</p><p>Ami opens her eyes.</p><p>He's standing above her, beside the bed, weight jauntily on one hip. Ami blinks, and he doesn't go away, he <em>stays</em> there. He smiles, and it's cruel.</p><p>"You're not real," Ami tells him firmly. He has to be a hallucination.</p><p>"Aren't I?" says Zoisite. "I think I sound pretty real. I think I <em>feel</em> pretty real." He bends and shakes her shoulder. She flinches - his touch is stone cold, even though through the gloves of the Dark Kingdom uniform he wears, but for all that unnaturalness, it's <em>real.</em> He reaches up to flick a lock of her hair out of her eyes and it <em>actually moves</em>.</p><p>This can't be!</p><p>Ami scoots back in the bed, away from the side where he stands. The covers slip to her waist and Zoisite gives her a judgemental eye, appraising, lifting an intrigued elegant eyebrow. She quickly covers herself, face inflamed. "What the <em>hell</em>," she says. "You can't <em>be</em> here, you don't <em>exist!</em> I'm <em>sick of hallucinating you!</em> You're <em>dead!</em>"</p><p>"Yet here I am!" he says, shrugging, spreading his hands. "And I'm not! Do you mind if I sit?" Ami stares in horror as he takes a seat next to her in the bed. The mattress dips with his weight. Surely this can't be her imagination, too? What is <em>going on?!</em></p><p>Ami twists away, leaning for the transformation pen that's in her bedside table, and Zoisite reaches over, too fast, blocking her movement with a hand at her wrist. This puts him dangerously close to her, <em>naked</em> under the cover and in her personal space. "Ah-ah," he says. His breath skates over her cheek and his heat is <em>real</em>. "I don't know what you plan to do with that, but I suspect it's nothing good."</p><p>"<em>Then get out of here</em>," she whispers. "I'm going to count to ten and I want you to <em>leave</em>. You're <em>not</em> real, you're my imagination."</p><p>But Zoisite moves closer. "Are you imagining this?" he asks, slowly shifting his weight until he's looming over her.</p><p>Ami shuts her eyes as he moves and counts to ten, bearing it until it's over. That's a horrible way to win fights but she's out of options and out of energy. As Zoisite settles slowly on top of her she thinks, please let him leave, please let him leave. She chants it under her breath.</p><p>It's stupid, it's ridiculous, how can he leave when he's not even real?</p><p>Ami opens her eyes ten seconds later and he's blessedly gone. He's gone, alright, but her bedcovers have fallen again, and she's topless; the duvet pooled around her waist, hiding nothing. Her nipples hard, and beneath the covers her cunt throbs. She gasps for breath she doesn't have. Why did he have to get so close, what did that accomplish?!</p><p>The pendant lays on her bare chest: ruby red, the smallest sliver of green on the outer circle, by the setting.</p><p>This can't be. This <em>can't be</em>.</p><p>It takes hours to get to sleep. Ami doesn't masturbate; she won't give him the satisfaction. Somehow, she knows that he's around, he's still watching. And every time she wakes up from another awful dream, aroused beyond measure, there's an imprint of touch now, a layover from her subconscious that now knows what it's like to have Zoisite lay a wicked hand on her.</p><p>--</p><p>In the morning, Ami goes and tries to search it online: hallucinations, stress-related, anxiety, paranoia. She gets a site for schizophrenia, but none of the symptoms are hers besides the hallucinations. She hasn't taken any drugs. None of this fits. She doesn't understand. But she hasn't got any time to put it together and has to get ready for lectures and work.</p><p>When she returns later that afternoon, Zoisite is already waiting for her. He's made himself <em>quite</em> at home on the couch, one long leg flung over the armrest like he owns it. He hasn't even bothered to remove his boots. "I feel I should probably explain myself," he says.</p><p>"Get out," Ami snaps. "I don't want to see you. I don't want to <em>hear</em> from you. You're an aberration in my perfect life and you don't belong here -"</p><p>"But it's not perfect, is it," says Zoisite. "You've been having quite a lot of problems!"</p><p>His tone taunts her. "Like you care," she says. "You're probably enjoying my misery."</p><p>"Come, now," he says. "Mercury, darling, why would I enjoy that?"</p><p>"Who knows why you do anything," Ami says. "Who knows why you're even <em>here</em>."</p><p>"You do, though," Zoisite replies. "You <em>do</em> know why I'm here." In one fluid motion he swings his leg off the couch and stands, then approaches closer, step by step. She's got time to run, she's got time to leave the apartment again, but she doesn't stop him, frozen by some fear.</p><p>Zoisite puts his hands at her neck and trails cool, long, elegant fingers around them, then slips them past her collar to retrieve the chain of the pendant from around her neck. The metal should be warmed by a day of sitting against her skin but something about it is cool and slippery as Zoisite manipulates it, liberating it from beneath her shirt. He grasps it, taking a closer examination. "Would you look at that," he says. "What a pretty colour."</p><p>Red as blood. There's no trace of the green zoisite now, just ruby.</p><p>"That's <em>not</em> yours to touch," she hisses.</p><p>"Oh, isn't it?" Zoisite brings his face closer to hers. "So stop me."</p><p>Ami yanks the pendant out of his hand and sidesteps him, stomping her way to the kitchen, intent on boiling the kettle for tea. She fully expects him to be gone by the time she's done this relatively innocent task, because that's how it's worked before, but she turns back and he's <em>still there</em>, leaning on the doorway of the threshold to the kitchen, as though waiting to be invited in. "What?" she snaps.</p><p>He points to the tea. "I've learnt my lesson."</p><p>"You deserved it, you don't belong here," she says.</p><p>Zoisite smiles. "On the contrary," he replies, "this is <em>exactly</em> where I should be."</p><p>"I have <em>work</em> to do," she says.</p><p>"By all means!" His sarcastic reply doesn't inspire faith. "Go right ahead, I'm not stopping you!"</p><p>And to his credit, he doesn't. Ami spends the rest of the evening working and studying, paying half attention to her books and code, and the other half on him, and the most Zoisite ever does is flip through one of her books from last semester, amusing himself, and ignoring her.</p><p>When it comes time for her to turn in, he skips to the bedroom. "No," she says flatly. "You can take the couch."</p><p>Zoisite scowls. "For now," he says. "I don't see why, your subconscious mind invites me in all the time."</p><p>Ami slams the door on him. "Get out of my apartment, and get <em>out</em> of my <em>dreams!" she yells.</em></p><p>--</p><p>Zoisite is gone in the morning, and the pendant has recovered a little arc of green again on the bottom right. Ami genuinely hopes that's the end of it. Just a weird episode, she figures. Her anxiety is really getting away from her, and after her meeting with Dr Bennett (he's satisfied with her work - she thinks? He keeps saying "well, it sounds like you're on track") she goes to make an appointment with the wellness counselor. The earliest appointment is three weeks from now, but that'll have to do because she has to hightail it to work.</p><p>But at midday when the lunch rush comes, guess who's there, table for one. Zoisite orders a salmon bento box. "What part of you're not real don't you get?" Ami growls.</p><p>"Of course I'm real," says Zoisite. "And I'm a paying customer!"</p><p>She glares. "With what money, exactly?"</p><p>"With this money." He shows her a wallet with enough Canadian bills that he can buy the stupid lunch menu. "This is ridiculous," says Ami.</p><p>"Problem?" Somsak has come up to her from behind.</p><p>Ami stammers a reply. "N-n -"</p><p>"No problem," supplies Zoisite smoothly. His eyes dart from Somsak to her, and finally land on Somsak, where they narrow. "Why <em>would</em> there be a problem?" Zoisite adds, his voice chilled.</p><p>Somsak looks at him and decides something. "Think there's an order in the kitchen I should pick up," he says.</p><p>"I agree," says Zoisite.</p><p>Somsak lowers his eyes first, breaking contact, and Zoisite watches with obvious glee as Somsak leaves.</p><p>"You didn't have to do that for me," says Ami. She's still in disbelief that someone can actually see Zoisite, interact with him. She tells herself it doesn't endear him any to her to stick up for her, but if she's being completely honest, it does throw her off.</p><p>Zoisite smirks. "Who said it was for you!" he says. "I just want my salmon. Now, my dear Mercury -"</p><p>"Don't call me that," she snaps. "No one here knows about that." But it's a good reminder that she has that power to tap into, if she needs to. If Zoisite really is real, if he really is dangerous.</p><p>"Alright, then, my dear hydrargyrum." Zoisite pulls a face. "Eurgh, that's not very delicate. My cinnabar, my quicksilver." He gives these words a delicate swoosh of his hands like he's trying out for a theatre role. Hamlet he isn't. "How's that?"</p><p>"You're ridiculous," says Ami, her cheeks flushing, "I'm not your anything!"</p><p>"Aren't you?" asks Zoisite. "You carry my stone around your neck, I'd think that means something. I really would like that salmon bento, please." He bats his long, dramatic eyelashes in a mockery of a puppy-dog look.</p><p>"You're a menace," she says.</p><p>Zoisite grins. He folds his arms behind his head and crosses his long legs beneath the table, the very picture of relaxed. Oh, she could <em>smack</em> him. "Yes," he says, "I am at that."</p><p>He eats it, and he cleans the plate, and she takes the plate to the back of house for dishwashing, and the plate actually exists, so ...</p><p>So he must be real. It can't just be her. Making things up.</p><p>--</p><p>Zoisite is gone the next time she leaves the back of house to check on him, so she assumes that he's either disappeared or made his way somewhere to ruin someone <em>else</em>'s day.</p><p>Ami takes the usual opportunity to run home after work, between work and evening lab. But instead of napping, she fetches her supercomputer and runs a quick scan on the pendant. It's the stone, it has to be - Zoisite alluded to it - the stone is <em>zoisite</em>, so of course she should have seen this coming!</p><p>(To be fair, it's not like she had 'pendant contains dangerous undead Shitennou' on her list of hypotheses. This is too unbelievable.)</p><p>But the supercomputer continues to turn up nothing new from the last time she scanned it. A stone, composition ruby - pargasite - zoisite.</p><p>There's one more thing, which is that the stone is green again, and the patch of red has entirely disappeared.</p><p>That can't be natural. Ami checks the supercomputer, then she searches it on her regular machine: anything about a stone having shifting optical properties. Tiger's eye and labradorite and opal and other similar chatoyant gemstones once again appear, but that's not the effect she's looking at. There's nothing online that talks about a gemstone that is a combination of two colours that fades in periodically. Some of them look different under different light conditions, but those are consistent.</p><p>It's not heat, is it? But it would need to be significant heat treating, not simply the warmth of her skin. Ami inspects the setting on the pendant. Maybe it slipped loose, maybe it's revolved in its housing and flipped around? No - it's firmly locked away. It can't move.</p><p>Then how to explain the unnatural colour change? This isn't some mood ring trinket!</p><p>--</p><p>Zoisite appears in her evening lab. To Ami's horror, Rebecca, the lab TA, stops him. "Sorry, who are you?"</p><p>This is so much worse, thinks Ami. It's not schizophrenia if other people can see her hallucinations. That's worse, that means it's actually Zoisite. But how?! He <em>died!</em> years ago!!</p><p>"Hi!" says Zoisite cheerfully, "I'm her <em>partner</em>."</p><p>"Lab partner?" asks Rebecca. Zoisite remains silent with a coy little smirk.</p><p>For years Ami has wished for a solid lab partner who isn't terrible, who is going to do their work, who won't sabotage her. and for years she keeps getting Keiths and Kimikos. And now, Zoisites. The universe must be laughing at her, a cosmic <em>joke</em>.</p><p>Rebecca glares. "Well, what's your name?" She pulls out a checklist.</p><p>"Oh, I won't be on the list," says Zoisite, "I haven't registered yet."</p><p>"It's been a month," says Rebecca.</p><p>Zoisite shrugs. "I'm a very lazy third year."</p><p>"Fourth year," corrects Rebecca. "This is a fourth year lab."</p><p>"But <em>she's</em> in third year," says Zoisite, pointing to Ami. "So am I."</p><p>Rebecca looks to Zoisite, then to Ami, then to Zoisite again. "You two really friends?" she asks.</p><p>"<em>No,</em>" says Ami, at the same time that Zoisite says "<em>Yes!</em>" brightly. He puts an arm around her and Ami wonders how soon she can stab him in the thigh with a pipette.</p><p>Rebecca has got too many things to do today and gives up too easily. "Fine, just - get it done by next week."</p><p>Zoisite gleams. "So!" he says. "What's first?"</p><p>"First, you get <em>out</em> of my way, and let me do my work," says Ami. "And you could do that best by doing your disappearing act."</p><p>"Sorry," says Zoisite, "I simply can't."</p><p>"What do you mean, you can't?"</p><p>Zoisite sneers at her. "<em>You're</em> the one with the super computer."</p><p>"How did you -?" Was he spying on her even in the restaurant?</p><p>"I felt it scan me," he says.</p><p>Ami frowns. "So... so you <em>are</em> the stone," she says. She shuffles it out from underneath her top to check - it's fully red again. Zoisite watches her put it back with an unkind glance at her cleavage, such as it is. "How does that work?" Does he have access to his abilities and powers? Can she confine him back there using hers?</p><p>Zoisite shrugs. "Right now, I'm your <em>ever</em> so helpful lab partner."</p><p>"You're a menace," she replies.</p><p>"Mm. So you've said. But admit it, it's more entertaining with me around."</p><p>That's one word for it! "I wouldn't call this entertaining!"</p><p>"Diverting, then," says Zoisite. "Look at it this way, while you mull over exactly how I got to be here, you're not beating yourself up about your recent poor scholastic performance, are you?"</p><p>Indeed not. Indeed, she'd forgotten it until he brought it up, and all of a sudden her heart's back in her throat again and the nerves return.</p><p>"Oh, don't start," he drawls. "Your anxiety positively nauseates me. Here," he says, and hands her the first item on the list she needs before she even has to ask for it. The universe cackles as Zoisite proceeds to be a better lab partner than the Kimikos and Keiths.</p><p>--</p><p>Zoisite's gone the moment the lab is let out for the night. She doesn't see him at home, she doesn't see him that evening at all. So she takes the opportunity to search more.</p><p>The red blotch in the middle of the stone has shrunk to the size of a grain of rice. Ami traces her thumb over it as she's always done before she remembers: if Zoisite's the stone, <em>he can feel that</em>.</p><p>She drops it like a hot potato on the desk and doesn't wear it to bed for the first time in over a year.</p><p>In fact, she puts it back in the box and puts the box in her drawer.</p><p>--</p><p>It doesn't help. Zoisite is there again Monday afternoon for another bento ("teriyaki chicken, I think," he says, musing over the menu - holding it in his <em>corporeal hands</em>).</p><p>And he's there every night in her dreams.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. third year (part two)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They can't possibly have corrected all the midterms yet, but that doesn't stop Ami's nerves about History of Evolutionary Biology. Much as she doesn't want to go to class, she has to face the music. She makes for the pendant as a soothing balm before she remembers what she's learnt about it.</p><p>And then she grabs it anyway. Let Zoisite sicken himself on her stress!</p><p>The class only gets about half her attention. The rest of it is wondering about this new mystery. Why <em>is</em> Zoisite here? Did he appear for Mamoru? (For that matter, if Mamoru has three other stones, Ami can take a wild guess what they are and who they represent.)</p><p>It's true that Mamoru hasn't been as attentive as he could have been, but when Ami bottles all her problems she can't blame Mamoru for not picking up on her internal strife. After all, she never lets anyone in. But Mamoru <em>would</em> have mentioned this effect if it had happened to him. Mamoru would have checked in if he knew anything were wrong, or if he suspected. So for him, it must have been sufficient to hold a stone every now and again, with no mysterious dreams or figures appearing, and he must have assumed the same would be true for Ami. But it's clearly not, and Ami can't work out why.</p><p>Moreover, Zoisite's appearances have something to do with the stone, but the colour is her only clue. The supercomputer shows no difference in energy readings when she scans the stone when it's red, and when she scans when it's green. If there's a fluctuation, it doesn't register as a pattern, and the signal reader on the supercomputer's scanning tool is extremely sensitive.</p><p>The next question then becomes... what does Zoisite <em>want</em> with her?</p><p>He's made some very strange intimations. Did he cause the dreams? Why seduce her? Why <em>her?</em> And why like this?</p><p>Why is it, that when he's finally able to speak to her, be around her, <em>touch</em> her, he chooses to act like this? When for months these dreams have been overtly, rampantly sexual.</p><p>(Not that Ami would have wanted him to! It simply doesn't fit the pattern. That's all.)</p><p>He could have touched her that night he loomed over her, but didn't. He could have done more than touch her. She wouldn't have been able to stop him, and that's a terrifying thought.</p><p>She might not have <em>wanted</em> to stop him.</p><p>He could overpower her even now, she realises. Unless she's transformed. And even then, it's not clear exactly what capabilities he has, or whether this appearing and disappearing act of his is even in his power. Ami puts herself in his boots to think about it - what would it be like if <em>she</em> were locked away in a stone? She'd probably want to get out, somehow. Figure out any way out.</p><p>Ami takes a closer look at the setting. It had seemed so pretty. But was it just the bars of a cage? She takes out the supercomputer from her bag and tries to scan the setting (<em>not</em> the stone!). Nothing. It's ordinary metal.</p><p>She can't trust him, of course. She can't trust anybody, but she <em>definitely</em> can't trust him. This seduction business, this is a plan of his, she's firmly aware, and it must connect with his ability to be out of the stone.</p><p>--</p><p>When Ami returns home, she finds Zoisite already there, waiting for her. This shocks her - did he take the pen? Ami makes for the bedroom.</p><p>"Don't worry your little head about it," Zoisite says, "I didn't go in."</p><p>Ami frowns. "Is it like vampires?" she asks. "Are you only allowed if I invite you?"</p><p>Zoisite grins, toothy, wide, and nasty. "And what am I <em>sucking</em> if that's the case?"</p><p>Her face reddens. He's so awful. He does this on purpose and she should get used to it.</p><p>"Is it because I took the pendant with me?" she asks instead. "Why didn't you appear in lecture, then?"</p><p>"Too boring! Besides, if <em>I</em> fantasise in lectures," he says, and gestures to his lap, "it becomes quite obvious." He uncrosses his legs, leaning back provocatively, and crosses them again. Uniform or not, Ami can see what it conceals, at least the broad shape of it. She looks away but it's too late, he's caught her watching and smirks.</p><p>Something catches in her mind. He's doing this on purpose but not to seduce her, not quite. He's doing this because he thinks she's prudish (and, well, she is, a little bit) and it stresses her.</p><p>
  <em>Which is why the pendant works.</em>
</p><p>Ami rips it off her, holding it in her hand. It's fully red again, no trace of green.</p><p>"You Dark Kingdom monsters," Ami says softly. "You always did love your energy, didn't you."</p><p>Zoisite sits straight up and the smile wipes off his face.</p><p>"Ah," says Ami, victorious. "That struck true, didn't it?"</p><p>"You were pathetic and <em>weak</em> because you couldn't hack a stupid examination so you brought a crutch with you," sneers Zoisite. "You have to take it everywhere with you now, don't you? I can't help it if you're stressed all the time."</p><p>"No," she says. "No, I think you <em>like</em> it. I think you feed off it, and the moment I get help, you'll go away."</p><p>Zoisite stands. "<em>Try</em> me," he says. "See if you can get rid of me. Go on, then, flush it down the toilet for all I care! You know that even if you leave it at home you can't keep me out."</p><p>No, that's true, because the times she's left it at home she still saw him out and about. Then it is an energy drain of some sort, and it's hooked her in, feeding off her even when it isn't around her neck. "I guess you won't mind if I break it," she says.</p><p>Zoisite sniffs and looks away, nose in air. "Be my guest," he says primly, "see what I care. You're so weak you probably can't."</p><p>So of course Ami heads for her room for the transformation pen. She's got it in hand when Zoisite appears behind her, at the threshold. "<em>Hey</em>," he says, "not like that!"</p><p>"Then I <em>can</em> destroy it," she says. Ami gleams and waves the pen in his face. Technically, it's not a pen anymore, it's a star stick, which they didn't even receive until after all the Shitennou had been destroyed. "I don't think you've seen this one yet, it's a more powerful version than the one you'll remember -"</p><p>She holds it high ready to transform.</p><p>"<em>No</em>," Zoisite growls, desperate. Whatever was keeping him back has snapped and he bursts through the threshold of her bedroom. In two strides he's in her space and shoves her into the wall, pinning her there with his body, holding her by the wrist. His grip is strong, stronger than it should be, and it has her heart racing. He stares down at her with an inch's difference between their faces.</p><p>"Why are you <em>wasting your time</em> with this," he hisses, "I'll leave you alone to study if that's what it takes! Or don't you have a meeting with your professor tomorrow? Have you got that bit of research finished for him, then? Why are you spending so much time worrying about this?"</p><p>"Because you're dangerous," Ami says, defiant.</p><p>"Oh?" says Zoisite. He tightens his fingers around her wrist and pushes into her stronger. His bony hips grind against hers through their clothing. "Pray tell, how dangerous <em>am</em> I?" He gives a low mocking titter into her face.</p><p>When he's cornered, Ami sees, he gets defensive and he lashes out. Otherwise he's annoyingly sexual; sometimes he combines both. You're not so hard to read, she thinks. And two can play that game.</p><p>"Maybe I don't have to destroy it," Ami says, as though vacillating.</p><p>She loosens her grip on the pen and it falls to the ground.</p><p>"Good," croons Zoisite (just like he did that time in her fantasies when he told her to come, and it's awful how it has her so molten, she's disgusted with herself). "Good girl."</p><p>"After all," Ami continues, "all I have to do is wait for you to go back in your pendant, and hand it back to Mamoru."</p><p>Zoisite scowls, all coaxing manner melted. "No!" he bellows. "You can't!"</p><p>A-ha. His anger is terrifying, so close up, and her heart is palpitating again, but Ami stands her ground. "Why wouldn't I? You're ruining everything about me so that you can - can what, steal enough energy to get out of the pendant? You never did this with Mamoru, did you?"</p><p>"It's not the same," Zoisite says. He narrows his eyes. "Only <em>you</em> were so weak, you were easy pickings. Poor, sad, helpless little Ami, you longed for friends but you didn't have any!"</p><p>She glares. "So was he, but he's different. Why? Because you were supposed to be his <em>guardian?</em>"</p><p>"Shut up!" Zoisite shrieks. He thrashes against her and knocks her back into the wall. Ami has half a mind to get her legs free and knee him in the groin. "You don't understand anything about that!"</p><p>"Neither do you! Just because you were faithful to him in a past life doesn't mean you'll be faithful now! He'll figure out what's wrong with this situation, and he'll put you <em>back</em> where you belong, <em>for good</em>, and it's what you deserve after you betrayed him, isn't it?"</p><p>"I deserve <em>freedom</em>," says Zoisite.</p><p>"<em>I</em> don't deserve to have <em>you</em> crumble my whole world down just because you want a little fresh air!" Ami yells.</p><p>Finally Zoisite lets go. He paces like a panther, relentless, blocking her exit from the room, but at least he's backed up a little. Ami rubs her wrist. "Your world is pathetic!" Zoisite says, and waves his arms to emphasise. He really is dramatic, she thinks. "You whine and cry about one silly little test like it's the end of the world! All you'd have to do is go to them, be honest, maybe put on a little show and cry a little, and ask them to let you discount it."</p><p>"That's not fair to the other students who <em>studied</em>," says Ami.</p><p>"<em>Why not</em>, you study hard enough for all of them put together! Why wouldn't they do something for the most fantastic student they've had in their department for the past two years, for, for a <em>bullshit</em> course that you <em>have</em> to take to fulfill some <em>bullshit requirement?</em> Or do you think I was just hanging on for the ride all this time?"</p><p>That almost sounds like he's been paying attention. It almost sounds like he cares, and Ami is almost flattered. It must show in her face because Zoisite points a warning finger in her direction as he continues, scathing and cruel. "That's <em>not</em> a compliment! <em>You're</em> a doormat and you <em>let people</em> walk over you and this is how that happened. Take some responsibility! If you want a solution so bad, then go to them, tell them what happened, and they're going to forgive the test. Or let you rewrite it." His lips curl and he gives a sick laugh. "Oh, you'd probably like that, wouldn't you, my little bookworm. I bet it gets you off."</p><p>"Shut up," says Ami. Her eyes are bleary and she wishes he didn't get to her. She tries to keep in mind that he's lashing out, he's trying to hurt her. Well, it's <em>working</em>.</p><p>"Just like it gets you off fantasising about fucking in the library," Zoisite sneers.</p><p>"Get out!" she cries. "Get out or I'll smash the pendant right now! And then we'll see how much you like your freedom!"</p><p>"You <em>can't!</em> You're a weakling!"</p><p>Not when she's Sailor Mercury, she's not.</p><p>She drops to her knees and fumbles for the transformation pen but he gets there first and sends a flurry of petals her way. The blow is sharp and icy, just like him, and it stings her hand but doesn't draw blood. A warning.</p><p>"So you <em>do</em> still have your powers," Ami says.</p><p>Zoisite gives an arrogant shrug. "I have some abilities left to me," he says.</p><p>"Even though Beryl's dead, and everything that gave <em>her</em> power is dead."</p><p>"You thought <em>I</em> was dead too," Zoisite mutters. He turns on his heel with a flounce and leaves the bedroom. The front door to her apartment opens, then slams shut.</p><p>He really does think she'd break it, doesn't he? He doesn't want to be around when she does. Or maybe something of what she said was enough to wound him. Or maybe he's going home to Mamoru before she makes him. Or maybe when she screamed at him to get out he actually decided he'd deign to take her seriously for once.</p><p>Who knows what he's doing. He was right about one thing, Ami has a meeting in the morning, and she's already spent <em>way</em> too much time and mental energy on him. Which he's probably draining.</p><p>--</p><p>Ami tries to get as much as she can done, but the pendant is in view at all times, next to her on the desk, both for safekeeping and for scrutiny. It begs her attention. It's red and warm to the touch for the first half hour and then, suddenly, in the blink of an eye, it goes green again, and is stone cold.</p><p>Wherever he went, he can't have gotten far. And whatever ties him to this must have sent him back.</p><p>But she needs to figure out what exactly it is she gives him that has allowed him this much of a leash in the first place, and she needs to cut him off. Zoisite alone is unkind; Zoisite with his powers is dangerous.</p><p>She texts Mamoru. &lt;I know I haven't been in contact lately, and I'm sorry. I've no excuses, I've just been busy. Would you tell me more about the stones you have, and the one you gave me?&gt;</p><p>Mamoru texts back an hour later. &lt;sure, what do you need?&gt;</p><p>&lt;What exactly did they do for you? How exactly did they help? What was your experience with them?&gt;</p><p>&lt;idk, I'd take them around in my pocket, fiddle with them in class. Once I got them set I'd wear them. Rub them for good luck before tests, usually worked. They kinda took my stress away, I guess. Helped me focus. Everything OK?&gt;</p><p>&lt;Fine. Nothing to worry about. You never had any -&gt; Any what? Any delusions, hallucinations? <em>Hey, Mamoru, I'm curious, did a Shitennou ever come to life, corner you, and fuck you in your dreams?</em> Ami can't ask that! How can she ask him about this without admitting all of the problems that she's had?</p><p>She settles on, &lt;You never had any weird dreams?&gt;</p><p>There's a long time to the next message.</p><p>&lt;I always have weird dreams&gt; Mamoru admits. Which isn't a yes or a no. &lt;if something's happening, you can give it back to me&gt;</p><p>The thought of giving the pendant up paralyses her with a moment of violent outrage, deep in her gut, that she can't explain. That she doesn't want to explain.</p><p>The pendant isn't <em>hers</em>. It belongs to Mamoru. (Well. Zoisite probably belongs to himself, if only because no one else would want him!)</p><p>But at the same time...</p><p>...it's a little bit hers.</p><p>After all, hasn't she sunk enough energy into it? Not that that ever seems to come out in the supercomputer scans, Zoisite's a black hole on that front, taking and taking and never giving. Even Mamoru admitted that's how it works: <em>they took my stress away</em>.</p><p>So he was feeding them energy too. The more distracted she is, the more she uses the pendant as a crutch, the more she feeds Zoisite energy. She can't be distracted and stressed like this anymore! Because it's not just bad for her health, it's <em>good for Zoisite's</em>.</p><p>Ami eventually texts back. &lt;It's fine. I guess your dreams are just contagious. I've been under a lot lately. Final year and all.&gt; This, Mamoru seems to accept.</p><p>Besides! She can't figure out what's weird about Zoisite's stone and how it affects hers if she gives it up. It's just the scientific process!</p><p>Then Mamoru asks, &lt;hey do you want to come over for lunch this weekend?&gt;</p><p>Even better. What's the scientific process without more data?</p><p>--</p><p>Any plan she has to not be stressed vanishes the next morning.</p><p>"So... that's not what I had in mind when I told you to look at the upstream regulation of these genes," says Dr Bennett. Ami is gripped with anxiety. "You know what, it's probably my fault, I thought I'd made myself clear, but I forget sometimes you're not in grad school." That's even worse! "It'll set your progress back a bit, but why don't you take the next week and finish the original task? We'll talk again next week. Okay?" Her spirits plummet. "And, ah, keep me posted of your progress, send me an email if you need to get back on track."</p><p>It's the shortest, most awful meeting Ami's ever had. Failure: this spells it out loud and clear. She walks to Shimano Sushi's in a daze for a five hour shift that doesn't make her mood any easier. Somsak is deadweight when he's not paying attention to her, and when he is, he's begun to linger around, annoyingly. Making nice as though everything is better between them but without having actually apologised for the way he treated her.</p><p>Ami's not convinced he isn't doing it because he misses ogling her because he continues to look down her top. And Ami is getting sick and tired of pretending that she doesn't notice so that Ho Yan will keep both of them employed, because if she didn't hire someone after Thanh left, there's no guarantee she'd hire someone if Somsak left, and then all that work would fall to Ami who is cheaper because she's illegal.</p><p><em>You're a doormat</em>, she remembers hearing. <em>You're a doormat and you're weak and you're pathetic.</em></p><p>That should make her sad. It should make her upset, it should break her heart, because it's such a cruel thing to say. But honestly, it's on brand for Zoisite and Ami's getting so physically exhausted that she's past a point of weepiness and is heading straight for spite. <em>Fuck</em> Somsak, honestly, and fuck Ho Yan, and fuck all these customers, and fuck Zoisite -</p><p>Oh, there he is, right in the corner, Zoisite's returned for a <em>goddamn bento box.</em></p><p>Ami makes for him but Somsak, surprisingly, gets there first. Somsak proceeds to take his order, while Ami watches on in an admixture of mild horror and amusement. Somsak starts out jaunty, ego high, but within seconds has paled and slumped. Zoisite meanwhile has leaned forward with a shark's smile and a demon's eyes. Whatever words Zoisite has picked, they're set to flay.</p><p>Ami's really not sure who to root for at this point.</p><p>He isn't doing this for her. Not that Ami wants him to fight her battles for her. Not that Ami <em>needs</em> him to do so! She could tell Somsak off plenty well herself! She just... she's just too polite, that's all. Zoisite, of course, lacks typical social niceties.</p><p>No, Zoisite's doing this so that she won't give the pendant back to Mamoru.</p><p>It must really burn him to do her a favour, she thinks. <em>Good</em>. Maybe she'll keep that dangling over his head a little while longer.</p><p>It's not until a much-dreaded History of Evolutionary Biology class later that day (minus one Zoisite, thankfully) that Ami puts it together: she'd said she wouldn't be stressed anymore, and then she had that morning, and that goal had shifted. She'd called him forward, no one else.</p><p>Ami doesn't need anyone to fight her battles for her. She's a big girl, she can do it herself! She <em>will</em> do it herself, because screw Zoisite and the audacity of the notion that he's here to help.</p><p>So she strides up to the TA to admit what happened, beg her case, and see what they will do.</p><p>--</p><p>"So!" says Zoisite later that day. "How right was I?"</p><p>"I don't know what you're talking about," says Ami. Pay some rent if you're going to live here, she thinks. She doesn't say it, but that polite part of her that keeps that filter up is degrading more and more with every moment that Zoisite lingers.</p><p>"You went to talk to them about your midterm. Don't lie to me - I can tell."</p><p>She glares. "You can<em>not</em>."</p><p>"<em>You</em> don't know. You didn't even know I have powers," says Zoisite. He lifts an arm and makes a throwing motion and the window bursts open in a chilly and petalled gust of wind.</p><p>"Stop that!" she says.</p><p>"Go on, tell me how right I was," wheedles Zoisite. "I like to hear it."</p><p>"You don't need a bigger head," Ami snaps. "They didn't let me rewrite it. They're considering allowing a flexible grading strategy. If the score is better on the final, they'll discount the midterm entirely."</p><p>"See? Was that so hard." Zoisite clasps his hands to his chest and falls into a faux-swoon. "Thank you, Zoisite, I'm so glad I have you, Zoisite."</p><p>"Yes, well, there's your answer. Since you so desperately need to know, for some reason," says Ami. She doesn't see why he cares. "Listen, I have a lot of work to do, and I don't need you around for it. Are you going to be quiet tonight or are you going to be in my way?"</p><p>"But I've been such a problem solver for you," says Zoisite. He lowers his voice to a sultry tone. "You'd really think you'd be a bit more <em>appreciative</em>."</p><p>Ami needs to get through a week of lectures if she wants to spend the weekend on research. And she <em>needs</em> to spend the weekend on research. "If you don't shut up, I swear I will take this pendant back to Mamoru."</p><p>"You won't," he says, "you'd miss it too much."</p><p>"Oh? Then why am I having lunch at his place this weekend?"</p><p>Zoisite pales. "You <em>can't</em>," he says.</p><p>"Give me a reason not to, and I'll think about it," she replies. "I want silence. I want you back in the stone."</p><p>He scowls. "Even if I wanted to, which I don't, I don't know how to," he admits mulishly.</p><p>"Oh? The great Zoisite admits he doesn't know a thing? We'll have to alert the press." Ami pushes past him for the kitchen. Ridiculous man.</p><p>"It isn't <em>funny</em>," he says. "Hey, don't walk away from me! Don't you think if I knew how to get myself out I'd've done it? You want me back inside my tiny stone cage so you've got no heart, even though I'm the only reason you've made it this far -"</p><p>He's put a hand on her shoulder to stop her and she whirls around to yell in his face. "Because you feed off my stress and when you don't have enough, you <em>create more</em> in my subconscious!"</p><p>"If I <em>knew</em> what I was doing, do you think I'd do it? Little bookworm, what makes you think you're even my type!?"</p><p>"What I <em>don't</em> know about you fills a library and <em>quite frankly</em> I was <em>happier</em> that way!"</p><p>Zoisite's eyes are venomous slits. "You'd be <em>nothing</em> without me!"</p><p>"I don't need you!" Ami screams.</p><p>"<em>I</em> don't need <em>you!</em>"</p><p>That's a lie.</p><p>They're both lies.</p><p>Zoisite and Ami stare at each other, angrily panting. His hair is growing dishevelled in his ire, a lock here and there escaping from his ponytail, artfully arranged to fall over his brow. Even unkempt, he is exquisitely tousled, he looks beautiful and damn him, that just isn't fair.</p><p>Her gaze drops to his lips. It doesn't mean to, but it does, and then -</p><p>And then he has her face cradled in his hands and his lips are on hers.</p><p>This is nothing like dreams. This is <em>nothing</em> like dreams, this is boiling, bright heat at her mouth as he devours her, like he's been devouring her for weeks and months, chipping away at her, little by little, and she can't even dream she's done a bit of the same to give as good as she's gotten.</p><p>Ami's still too stunned to give as good as she gets, clasped there in his embrace, her hands trembling too much even to touch him by the waist.</p><p>Zoisite walks her back, step-by-step to the nearest wall and holds her there, elbows either side of her head. She's locked in now, and this should worry her and if she had any self-preservation she'd do something about it. But if she had any self-preservation she would have given up the pendant months ago!</p><p>Instead she falls back, moaning, because there's something he's doing with his tongue that has bought him her laxness and sends shivers up her spine. He opens her legs with one of his and lays his knee there, pressing closer. If there's any element of ghostliness to him it's gone now, in the firm press of his body, in the hot wet slide of his mouth on hers.</p><p>Too much, Ami thinks, finally summoning the ability to lay her hands on his chest, thinking to push him away. But she doesn't.</p><p>Stop this, she has to stop this.</p><p>Why is he doing this?</p><p>This is a trick, this is a ploy.</p><p>This is the hottest thing that's ever happened to her.</p><p>He's feeding off this too, somehow, isn't he?</p><p>The pendant - his pendant - hangs from around her neck, trapped between their bodies as he shifts to flatten himself upon her.</p><p>Ami gives a push and manages an inch of blessed breathing space. "<em>Stop this</em>," she says. She won't look at him, she can't. "If you don't stop this right now, I'll go back to Mamoru immediately. This is your final warning."</p><p>Zoisite is snidely chuckling to himself. He traces the lower curve of her lip with his gloved thumb, then follows it up with his teeth. "My little doormat's growing a spine, is she? That's cute."</p><p>"<em>Stop it!</em>" Ami cries.</p><p>"I prefer it when you <em>fight</em>," he says. "Expend all the energy you like, or lie limp. It benefits me <em>either way</em>."</p><p>Ami cannot forget that in addition to being rude and vain and arrogant, Zoisite is also a <em>villain</em>.</p><p>She knees him in the groin. While he's buckled over in pain, she rifles through her clothing past her neckline to find the pendant, which she flings away. It hits the couch and tumbles to the ground. As he shuffles for it, she grabs her bookbag and her keys and leaves.</p><p>Zoisite's worse than Erika and Stephanie combined.</p><p>Ami heads for the library and gets some good work done until it's closing time. When she returns home, he's blessedly gone.</p><p>But so is the pendant. Ami spends the first five minutes of this discovery freaking out, like she's lost at sea and her lifeline has vanished. She shouldn't place so much of herself in that - that <em>thing</em>, but she has, and she can't quit cold turkey!</p><p>Only after that panic does her logic even begin to return, in piecemeal starts and fits. If Zoisite snaps back to the pendant after some time away from her, if some part of her mood causes him to vanish unexpectedly, then he couldn't possibly have taken the pendant with him and left! He'd never know when that could happen. It could happen in the middle of the road, it could happen on a sidewalk, it could happen in a park. Zoisite's dangerous, not dumb.</p><p>He can't have taken it. Also, if he had taken it, she's pretty sure she'd kill him!</p><p>Ami finds it later that night, in her underwear drawer, in a pair of her panties.</p><p>"You awful, awful man," she tells it, and slams the drawer shut.</p><p>An hour of tossing and turning later she retrieves it, puts it on, and heads for bed. Her dreams feature riotous cackling and the slide of his tongue over her body.</p><p>--</p><p>"Thanks for coming by today," says Mamoru.</p><p>"Thanks for having me," replies Ami.</p><p>Mamoru is somewhat abashed. It can't be because of his apartment, which is as clean as it ever gets. "I know I haven't been checking in on you, lately," he says.</p><p>First Zoisite, now Mamoru. Honestly, she can go it alone. She's been doing that for over two years now. "I don't need to be checked up on!" Ami doesn't need people to hold her hand!</p><p>"You know... you know I'm friends with Leslie, right?" Mamoru is hesitant about picking his words, as though he fears he'll set her off or break her. "She told me about your midterm."</p><p>Caught. Leslie isn't supposed to divulge things like that. Though... she supposes it was possible to make mention of something without saying anything about the actual grade. "That was - that was a bad day," says Ami, "that's all."</p><p>Mamoru rolls his eyes. "Yeah, I'll say. Listen, Ami ..." He sighs. Then he appears to make his mind up about something and starts over. "This is a lot easier with Usagi because Usagi actually talks when she's got a problem. But you <em>don't</em>. And ... and now that I think of it, you never really have. I guess I should've taken that more into account."</p><p>"It's not obligatory to talk to people -"</p><p>"It is if you want their help," he says.</p><p>Ami frowns. "And if I don't?"</p><p>Mamoru concedes the point. "Well, okay, but... is it really so bad to let people in? To let people help you? Even if you could do everything all on your own, isn't it better to do it with friends and to rely on people you can trust? It's not like you get part marks. It's not like life is a group project!"</p><p>That's all very easy for Mamoru to say. Mamoru <em>has</em> a nice circle of friends. All Ami has is Zoisite, and she wishes she didn't! "Mamoru, I know I like school, but I came here for lunch. Not a lecture." And certainly not the patronising.</p><p>Mamoru gapes, astonished, but it shuts him up quickly. He nods once in an uncertain motion, jerky and perplexed.</p><p>Though. He <em>is</em> older than her and she should listen to him for that. At least hear him out.</p><p>He's just trying, Ami realises. He's trying to reach out because he hasn't this year and he knows it and now it's nearly December and exams are upon them and he feels like a bad friend.</p><p>When it's Ami the bad friend, because how is Mamoru supposed to offer help or even know when something's wrong when Ami never reaches out?</p><p>And she didn't have to snap at him like that. Being around Zoisite is having something of an effect on her patience and politeness metre. Ami has to get that under control.</p><p>"You're right," says Mamoru. He gives a soft smile. "Ami, I'm - I'm trusting you to tell me when you have problems. Okay? And I want you to know that if you had problems, and I didn't know, because you never said, and they went unaddressed for so long, I'd be so sad."</p><p>Ah, the guilt trip. Very effective when patronising doesn't work. Ami is unmoved.</p><p>"Look, if you don't do it for me, at least do it for Usagi, who - and this is true! - has not stopped blowing up my phone because you've left her on read for six months!"</p><p>Oh. That's fair.</p><p>"Anyway." Mamoru gestures with his head. "Think the chicken's been done for awhile."</p><p>"Mind if I use the washroom first?" Ami asks.</p><p>"Go right ahead. Up the stairs, next to my room."</p><p>Perfect, thinks Ami.</p><p>So ... it's a cruel thing for her to do to snoop inside a friend's bedroom. Ami knows this. But she also knows exactly what she's looking for and beelines for it and it alone. After all, she doesn't care to snoop in Mamoru's things. What she wants is the little box of stones that's in his closet.</p><p>She finds it readily. There are the three others. One is a milk-green in a silver setting with filigree work, cool and elegant. The supercomputer reads jadeite. The next is a deeper green tone, like forest green. Wire-wrapped with bronze. Very au naturel; it looks like a bay leaf and has been least modified. That one must be nephrite. (Ami wishes she could say it suits him ... but without knowing any of them very well, she has no baseline.)</p><p>The last, the pink one, is set in rose gold with pearls. It's a stunning piece of work, at once delicate and heavy. Mamoru must have liked kunzite best. (Did Endymion? Ami wonders.)</p><p>She scans each of them in turn for a base reading, then fishes out their missing brother from underneath her shirt. In the dull light of Mamoru's bedroom, the zoisite stone gleams shinier than any of the others, a brighter green. Vivid. <em>Alive.</em> The flecks of black pargasite glimmer, and though there's no red visible at the moment, there's an aura to the piece anyway.</p><p>It's her energy that's done all that.</p><p>Ami puts her pendant back in the case and sits back on her heels.</p><p>She could just leave him there. For all the grief he's given her.</p><p>She looks at it. Thinking.</p><p>So innocent there.... really, it's a trifle... what harm could it really do, and all she has to do is figure out how it's become attuned to her, connected to her, and undo that, and that's her role as a senshi anyway, so ... so really it fits, and she should take it ...</p><p>A beat passes before Ami realises she's already got her hand held out, suspended over it, ready to pick it up again.</p><p>She forces herself to pick up the nephrite instead.</p><p>Now. If it's energy, and if the colour is an indicator, then Ami can test that theory by focusing her energy into the stone and seeing if it changes colour.</p><p>Ami thinks. Concentrates. She has maybe another minute before she should find the washroom and make it look like she came here for that.</p><p>All her stress about the project, the feelings of inadequacy, the failure, being a bad friend to Mamoru, being a bad friend to Usagi, being a bad senshi who's dreaming about <em>sleeping with a Shitennou</em>, all her pent-up angst and unbridled lust, she pours it into the stone, or so she hopes.</p><p>Nothing. Nephrite is just as boringly green as he was. (No offence, Ami thinks. Because he hadn't been all that bad in the end.)</p><p>There's no point to any of this. She should finish up here and go find Mamoru, enjoy her Saturday.</p><p>Ami is halfway to standing before wondering... should she really leave it? Should she take it?</p><p>Mamoru could find it with the others and know she was in his room, and that's a creepy thing.</p><p>But... she doesn't want Zoisite around anymore.</p><p>Doesn't she?</p><p>She <em>doesn't!</em> He's having a bad effect on her.</p><p>Is he? Would it really be so bad to stop being so meek, to start asking for what she's due?</p><p>Screw it. Ami'll take the damn pendant simply to keep an eye on him and maybe between that, she can work out some sort of control strategy.</p><p>But when she turns back to the box, her pendant is gone.</p><p>A moment of stomach-lurching panic, stopped when her hand instinctively flies to her chest -</p><p>Only to feel the lump of the pendant, beneath her shirt, sitting in the pocket formed by the join of her bra cups at her sternum.</p><p>Ami didn't even remember taking it. She didn't even remember putting it on. And a blotch of red is back, which is curious. Almost like it was blocking any ability of Ami's to make any sort of connection with any of the other stones.</p><p>This alone is reason to leave it here.</p><p>Ami takes it with her.</p><p>--</p><p>Ami has a shift of work after lunch with Mamoru, and when she comes home, she's beyond exhausted. It's 9 pm and she still has studying to do tonight and she doesn't know how she'll make that happen. Ho Yan still hasn't hired someone new and Ami just wants to <em>scream</em>. This, of course, draws out Zoisite at the worst possible time, as she's struggling to slip into more comfortable sleepwear.</p><p>And good lord but does Zoisite have an earful for her.</p><p>"You would have <em>left</em> me there!" he's shouting. "You would have abandoned me!" His voice is high and fraught as though he actually thinks she would have done it, or that he's shocked at the audacity that she would threaten to. Well! Ami's not so nice and doormatty when it comes to Zoisite, and Zoisite's entirely to blame!</p><p>"I don't see why it's so terrible a fate," Ami replies, "you'd be in good company."</p><p>"I wouldn't and you <em>know</em> it," Zoisite replies.</p><p>She pushes past him for the kitchen. Zoisite's squawking won't be enough to keep her awake. "What have you really done to merit anything else? You don't help me at all without helping yourself."</p><p>"Can't it be both ways!? A little quid pro quo?"</p><p>Ami whirls back to face him. She's sick of people acting like they're <em>helping</em> her. Acting like she <em>needs their help</em> in the first place! The days when she longed for friends are gone and burnt out of her and she can do it on her own because she’s had to learn! Unless they're saying she can't learn! "You take," snaps Ami, "and take, and <em>take</em>, that's all you ever do! I <em>should</em> have left you there! I could have figured it out with any of the others -"</p><p>"Oh, certainly, I'm sure you would have been so <em>happy</em> with any of them," says Zoisite, bitterly, "Jadeite would have ignored you, Kunzite would have exploited you worse than I ever could have and Nephrite -" Zoisite stops to think. "Well, Nephrite probably would have made you breakfast because if you ask me he's as much a doormat for you humans. But that's neither here nor there because <em>I'm</em> the one you've got and you're <em>stuck with me</em>, you understand that?"</p><p>"Maybe I don't want to be stuck with you!" Ami shouts.</p><p>"You don't get a choice!"</p><p>"No, <em>you</em> don't get a choice!" She stabs a finger right into his chest. "<em>I</em> don't turn back into a pumpkin at the stroke of midnight or whenever someone else's mood is slightly less stressed. <em>You're</em> reliant on someone else and you hate that but you have to learn to live with it."</p><p>"And <em>you</em>," Zoisite rounds on her, shrieking, stepping a little too close, but Ami refuses to back down. "<em>You</em> have to learn to <em>trust</em> someone else and you hate that but <em>you</em> have to learn to live with it!"</p><p>"It's not going to be you!"</p><p>Zoisite spreads his arms wide, defensive. "I never said it would be! I simply eavesdropped on your conversations with Mamoru because <em>that's what villains do</em>, isn't it, and that's what I am, a <em>villain</em>, which is why you want to put me back away in a little box and forget I exist!"</p><p>Ami rolls her eyes. "Oh, please, you could put a little more effort into being endearing in the first place."</p><p>"You want effort?" Zoisite is in her personal space again. He's not much taller than she is, though he looks down his nose at her in more ways than one, and he uses every inch of height he's got to scramble for a higher ground he doesn't really occupy. And Ami's still angry, still ready to fight, he should be so lucky that her transformation pen is behind them both, in the bedroom. (Ironic that he keeps calling her a doormat when only for Zoisite, Ami realises, does she grow less timid. Well, it's hard to be polite to a Shitennou. Hard to be polite to a villain!)</p><p>"I'll give you effort," Zoisite continues, defiant, but slowly slips into desperation. "I'll give you <em>give and take</em>, just don't - don't put me back in a box and put that box away in a closet and <em>forget about me</em>. You act so high and mighty but what you want is grovelling. That's not very heroic." He gets on his knees. Ami freezes. It's probably supposed to be penitent but the way he's spread his thighs just slightly so has caught her attention, as has the flushing of anger in his cheeks and the wildness of his curls. "Well, here I am, ready to beg, would that make you happy?"</p><p>Meanwhile, his fingers slip up the hem of her nightgown. He doesn't look up for permission before he's reached her panties.</p><p>"Get off the floor," Ami says. Zoisite slips his fingers up to the waistband and peels them down, beneath the nightgown.</p><p>"No," Zoisite replies. "You don't want me to do that." He tugs her panties down her thighs and crawls closer on his knees. Ami steps back shakily only to find he's cornered her again on the wall. He has to stop doing this.</p><p>"Stop telling me what I want when <em>you don't know</em>," she replies.</p><p>If he won't move on his own, she should <em>make</em> him move. This she does not do. Instead, she does nothing, and Zoisite takes it as tacit acceptance to shove one of her legs out wider.</p><p>"Fine. Then <em>I</em> don't want me to do that. Let me," Zoisite says. His nose is at her thighs now, higher than where her panties have dropped, and he lifts the hem of the nightgown slowly, teasingly. "I'll show you, I can be good. Since that's what you want. Someone <em>good</em> for <em>goody-two-shoes Mercury.</em>"</p>
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</div><p>Is that what she wants? "You haven't a good bone in your body," says Ami.</p><p>"No," he agrees, "maybe not. But I've a talented tongue." He leans in.</p><p>"You've a <em>wicked</em> tongue," Ami says weakly. But she's not stopping him. He won't do it, truly?</p><p>"Mm-hmm. That too."</p><p>Zoisite leans in closer and Ami can't see anything from this angle, just that mass of curls. But she can feel it as his fingers gently caress her, a sly stroke down her labia, then a hot, wet tongue as his mouth clasps over her clit.</p><p>"A-ah -" Ami gives a shaky exhale that turns into a moan. "What -"</p><p>Why is he doing this? Is he really so desperate not to get back into the stone? Whatever magic Mamoru has, it must interfere with his ability to roam free, and Zoisite must have figured that out. That, and increasing her stress levels seems to give him something to feed off of.</p><p>Zoisite hums then, and the vibrations of his lips between hers, the tip of his tongue stroking up and down, back and forth, exactly the way Ami does it when she touches herself -</p><p>How could he know, she wonders.</p><p>Ami breathes heavily now, straining to be quiet, trying not to give Zoisite the satisfaction. But her nipples are taut under the nightgown and the rising and falling of her chest has them brushing up against it, just enough to tickle, and the pendant lies between her breasts, glaring red.</p><p>She takes it in one hand to hide its accusing colour from sight. Zoisite huffs a breath that skates across her abdomen and leans in closer, spreading his thighs and canting his head as he opens his mouth wider. One hand strays behind and slips past her labia. His fingertips search out and find her entrance and push up inside it.</p><p>It hits her: he knows what to do because she's had the pendant in hand while she masturbates, she's already given him the best map she could to her anatomy, so it doesn't matter if he's good or bad at this, he knows exactly where to hit her and can do so with precision.</p><p>Zoisite presses his fingers deeper and licks her harder. Ami's trembling now, like one good gust will knock her over, and his one hand on her upper thigh is barely enough to keep upright. She falls back against the wall and a moan escapes her.</p><p>Between her legs, Zoisite makes a throaty triumphant chuckle that has her head spinning. Ami reaches out and threads her fingers in his hair.</p><p>"Harder," she sighs, "deeper." She tries to make it a command but it's impossible, he has her by the privates, literally, and thinking about that gives a quaver to her voice. Though he does comply, alternating shifting up her and drawing out, two inches forward, one inch back, a slow drag that has her gasping, until she's seated on his long gloved fingers and against his wicked hot tongue and any movement she makes bucks her against one or the other.</p><p>She's going to come. Oh god, Zoisite is going to make her come.</p><p>"Mm-hmm," says Zoisite below her, as though agreeing, as though she said it aloud and he heard it. He crooks his fingers forward and <em>there</em>, that shoots through her like lightning, that's something she couldn't reach on her own. Ami shakes apart on Zoisite's pointed, mocking face.</p><p>She moans. She cries out. She can't help it. And she can feel from the way Zoisite's lips curl that he's grinning.</p><p>Zoisite backs up only a fraction. His chin is shiny-wet. "Don't put me back there," he says. "Let me show you." Without waiting for an answer, he picks her up, surprisingly corporeal, surprisingly strong, and carries her to the bedroom. He's focused about this, she realises.</p><p>Ami should say stop. She should say no, she shouldn't let him.</p><p>She lets him lift her over the threshold to her bedroom, bridal style, as her legs are too jellified to object.</p><p>"H-hey," she says, "but the bedroom - I didn't invite you -"</p><p>"You didn't have to," Zoisite growls. "I stayed back out of politeness for you, that's all. But I'm through being <em>nice</em>."</p><p><em>That</em> was Zoisite being <em>nice?!</em></p><p>He plants her there unceremoniously like deadweight, and as Ami bounces through the aftershocks of orgasm, she realises he's hard. Zoisite snaps his fingers and is nude immediately. "Virtues of being a fucking rock," he says sarcastically.</p><p>His cock is long and slender like the rest of him, and the head is as red as the pendant, shiny and slick. He follows her onto the bed, crawling forward on his knees between her legs.</p><p>Ami should stop him. But instead he slips off her panties the rest of the way, and she lets him. She lets him part her legs and she lets him crawl towards her with that monstrously long thing between his legs. He hikes up the nightgown to waist length.</p><p>"Don't put me back there," Zoisite says. He takes himself in hand and rubs himself along her, from clit to vulva and back again, taking his time, teasing her cruelly.</p><p>"Or you'll what," Ami whispers, an attempt at being daring.</p><p>Zoisite raises a thin, elegant eyebrow. He stills for a beat. Then he pushes in in one swoop.</p><p>It <em>pinches</em> and Ami whimpers but Zoisite doesn't care and he keeps on going. He seems surprised at the intensity of the sensation himself. "Yes," he pants, "oh, <em>yes</em>." He leans forward to grab her by the hip. In one rude movement, he pulls her to him, impaling her on the rest of him.</p><p>Hip-to-hip like this Ami can <em>feel</em> him, the tops of his thighs and his balls brushing against her ass. So deep inside her. So <em>full</em>. She's spread so wide, on display. One of the sleeves of her nightgown has slipped down her shoulder, exposing it. Zoisite backs up and slams in again, experimentally, then he does it again and starts a rhythm. In and out, in and out, a barely controlled frenzy, like her breathing.</p><p>He's fucking me, Ami thinks, he is <em>fucking</em> me. It's unbelievable. It's like a dream and it may as well be one for all the times she's seen this in a subconscious vision. But the intimacy isn't something she could have predicted and as Zoisite leans down to her, getting on his elbows atop her, bucking into her all the while, the weight is so much worse than she remembers.</p><p>Zoisite takes one of her thighs in hand and pushes until she's split wide open. Fucks up into her again, again. It's like she can feel him in her belly, she thinks. And she's so sensitive and swollen still that he brushes up against her clit and that's already enough to have her crying out.</p><p>"See," Zoisite growls. "See, you <em>can't</em> put me back. Not now. Not now I've got my hooks in you." He takes hold of her nightgown by the hem and pulls it, with Ami still inside, dragging her torso up 'til she's halfway to sitting, to give him enough purchase that he can pull it up over her head and yank it off.</p><p>And then Ami's there balanced back on her hands, naked as he is, her breasts bouncing as he thrusts. "Yeah," Zoisite says softly, a little proudly. "<em>Yeah.</em>"</p><p>Ami gets one hand down to her clit and starts to rub. She should be stopping him! But it's good, it's <em>good</em>, and she wants to come again.</p><p>Zoisite sees it and snarls at her, whacking her hand away. "No point in keeping me around if you can do it yourself, now, is there," he sneers. He pulls out, backs up, and grabs her by the waist to flip her over onto her front, ignoring her cry of surprise. Ami's still scrambling to get to her elbows and knees before he's hoisting her up by the hips and thrusting in again from behind, without warning, without her say-so. She spreads her thighs anyway.</p><p>Exactly like in her fantasies. Exactly like in the library. Only real and impossibly better that he's so deep inside.</p>
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</div><p>Zoisite leans over her, flattening himself on her back, and with one hand grabs her breast, twisting the nipple. And Ami screams like the girl in the porno did, leaning down to get away from the stinging touch, arching into his cock instead. He doesn't let her and scoots her back onto him. He's rough with her; he positions her how he likes, and doesn't let her get any leverage.</p><p>But evidently he's in a giving mood at the moment, willing to provide for her pleasure, benevolently doling out sensation like it's charity work. It's a bribe, she can't forget that, but it's deceptively easy to, to be positioned and manhandled and treated this way. With his other hand, Zoisite trails down to her clit and rubs her, until she's mindless with it and shifting back on every thrust to receive him.</p><p>Ami finds herself caught in a web of his actions, and he's everywhere, she couldn't escape if she wanted to, and it's so pleasurable that she doesn't. He plunges deep, angling his hips to stroke the same place he curled his fingers against earlier, and something lights up inside her with the shocking intimacy that is the reminder that <em>this is the head of his cock</em>. His hands are all around her and he's <em>in</em> her and the pendant is still around her neck. She grabs it and rubs, drifting her thumb across it, matching Zoisite's rhythm on her clit until she comes like that, skewered on him, shifting back into his cock and begging with her body for more.</p><p>He fucks her through the aftershocks and only after as she's coming down from the high, sweat cooling on her skin, utterly relaxed, does she realise he's sped up and his thrusts have grown jerky. "Yes," Zoisite is panting, as he thrusts so fast his balls slap against the backs of her thighs; such a crude sound. "Yes, fuck yes, so close - no, please not now -"</p><p>Zoisite vanishes into thin air.</p><p>Ami blinks.</p><p>It's ludicrous now, upon reflection. There she is in bed, naked, ass up in air, and no one around to see it, but she still feels some appall at herself.</p><p>Well, she should. She just <em>fucked Zoisite.</em></p><p>But Zoisite is nowhere to be seen and certainly nowhere to taunt her or mock her about it. She checks the pendant.</p><p>Green, again.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. third year (part three)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ami draws up a list of what she knows.</p><p>1) Mamoru has some power that stops any of the Shitennou from leaving their stones or accessing their own powers. And just being around him is enough to trigger that, he doesn't have to be using the stones, they only have to be in their box and have that box be with Mamoru and it preserves them there.</p><p>2) Being around someone else, meanwhile, allows Zoisite (presumably any of them) to feed off that person's energies. It's possible it depends on what <em>kind</em> of energy. But it seems more the case (and more similar to what Ami remembers, from fighting the Dark Kingdom way back when) that any energy is good energy. Stress, anger, lust - it's all the same. It must have been the case that stress alone wasn't enough, or that Zoisite decided to push his luck. Knowing Zoisite, that's entirely possible. That must have been why he's been doing whatever he's been doing in those dreams of hers.</p><p>She supposes it could also be that he's just plain horny. Locked away in a stone with no recourse for however long, and his energies influenced hers in some kind of weird feedback mechanism. But his stone lay right next to Kunzite's and Ami distinctly remembers a closeness between those two. Furthermore, he even said she wasn't his type. Ah, but Zoisite is defensive and lies.</p><p>Ultimately, no matter how much energy Zoisite sucks up, it isn't enough to keep him permanently out. It seems to need some sort of periodic refreshing. A <em>huge</em> amount of energy input was necessary before he did it the first time (nearly an entire year's worth), and it still isn't steady. For that matter, it could be related to <em>whom</em> they're feeding off of... If such a person winds up so relaxed they remove the source of energy, there goes the mechanism of escape and back they go. (Ami's certain that given his druthers, Zoisite would have at least come before disappearing.)</p><p>3) There's a connection that gets forged that can't be easily broken. Or re-forged to another stone when one is already intact. And that... that concerns Ami a <em>lot</em>.</p><p>Because she didn't ask for such a connection, and Zoisite went ahead and forged one without her consent, and she can understand his desperation to an extent, but she still doesn't like it and she'd love to be able to have any sort of say in that connection. Like breaking it, for example!</p><p>So it's really not all that surprising she taunted him like she did, saying she'd give him back to Mamoru. Quite frankly, Zoisite's got a lot to apologise for. And one good fuck isn't Ami's idea of apology, fun as it might be.</p><p>She's <em>not</em> doing that again. It happened, she'll deal with it, it's never happening again. Zoisite can give her all the dreams she wants, she's sticking to her own fingers.</p><p>--</p><p>Zoisite doesn't return for two days. In those two days Ami has her final test before exams start up and a meeting with Dr Bennett. The most that happens is a dream she wakes up sweating from, but that she can't remember. This is good, Ami thinks, she could get used to this.</p><p>But Zoisite comes back after a particularly rotten shift at work. Somsak has begun passive aggression, little things like slamming the dishes into the sink to spook her, cutting remarks that she's getting less and less good at ignoring. Ho Yan tolerates it. At least there was an interview today. Maybe Ami's load can finally lighten.</p><p>"I don't see why you continue working there," says Zoisite.</p><p>Ami whirls around from the closet, where she's hanging up her coat. Zoisite, if he's been following her, doesn't seem to need a winter jacket. "Oh, it's you," she says.</p><p>"Who else would it be?" Zoisite snaps. "No one else visits you because you don't have any friends."</p><p>He's being nasty again. "You're just angry because you spent two days in a stone after the taste of sweet, sweet freedom," Ami says.</p><p>"Which is <em>my</em> doing," Zoisite mumbles, "so you're welcome."</p><p>"Anyway, I work there so I can afford this place," says Ami. "I know Nephrite helped himself to a sports car but surely you understand that things cost money."</p><p>Zoisite rolls his eyes. "But why there?"</p><p>"Because they're the only place who'd hire me," says Ami. "I don't have a visa for this country. I can study and that's it."</p><p>"Well, grants and scholarships aren't a job," says Zoisite. "That's not even taxable. Why haven't they given you one of those?"</p><p>They did. On the basis of her grades alone she's received a few scholarships already. "Each one is valued at maximum a couple thousand," says Ami. Which is two months' rent.</p><p>"This place gets so much money and won't spend it on their students?!"</p><p>"It spends on students," says Ami, "just the graduate ones."</p><p>"Well, how great for Mamoru," says Zoisite dryly, "I'd hate to think <em>he</em> had to resort to a minimum wage type job where he got trampled for a living and treated like dirt."</p><p>"So would I, frankly," says Ami.</p><p>Zoisite's tirade follows her into the kitchen. "Oh, but it's okay for <em>you</em> to have these people walk all over you? Why, that asshole Somsak alone -"</p><p>"I didn't know you cared," says Ami, interrupting him.</p><p>Zoisite shuts his mouth with a snap. Spots of colour appear high on his face, dusting his perfect sculpted cheekbones. "I don't," he says stiffly. "I don't care at all. Go work yourself into an early grave. See if it bothers my time."</p><p>But it does give him energy when she's stressed. Wouldn't he want to maximise that?</p><p>"Listen, I have to get to studying," she says. "You can stay - I don't think I could put you back if I tried, I don't think either of us know how to. But if you step out of line -"</p><p>"Yes, yes," Zoisite says, flapping a hand dismissively, "you'll take me back to Mamoru, you've already threatened that."</p><p>"No," says Ami. "I won't take you back to him."</p><p>Zoisite's astonished surprise looks like the brightening of a shaft of light through cloud. "You - you won't?" he says, in a soft voice.</p><p>"No," she replies. "But in exchange, you have to support me. You don't have to like it and I know it'll be a difficult task for you, to do something kind." Zoisite's mouth is already open in defence but Ami continues. "<em>Don't</em> stress me out on purpose simply because you need to leech some energy. There's plenty of restaurants around here that I know for a fact you can patronise. But I'm plenty stressed already. And the dreams can stop! Whatever you've done in the past few days - keep doing that. It's been nice to have something low-key for a change."</p><p>"I can't stop them," Zoisite says. "I don't know how."</p><p>He's not stupid, Ami knows that much, so Zoisite <em>simply not knowing</em> is less likely than Zoisite withholding an answer from her to get his way. "How did you start them in the first place?"</p><p>"I didn't," he says. Ami doesn't buy it and glares. "Hey, don't look at me like that!" he says. "I could have lied! But I was honest with you. Doesn't that count for something?"</p><p>"Yes, you're so magnanimous," says Ami flatly. "Truly a saint."</p><p>"Even if you want me to tone it down, as you suggest, I don't know what I can do to do that, as I can't help any of it," Zoisite says.</p><p>"You haven't exactly been trying," she replies.</p><p>He looks her up and down, and grins, lecherous. "Can't blame me," he says.</p><p>She can and she will! "Stop that."</p><p>"<em>You're</em> the one who masturbates with me in your hand," says Zoisite, giving a carefree shrug, "I'm just working off a pre-established pattern. You know, something something Bayesian prior."</p><p>"I don't think that's how it works."</p><p>"Yes, well, I wasn't really paying attention in your statistics lectures."</p><p>That was winter semester of her second year. It's wild - and not a little horrifying - to think that he's been with her that long, as though he's been perched on her shoulder like a witch's familiar. What else has he seen? Was he thinking and learning about her in that time to better refine his strategy once he was able to spring free?</p><p>"As long as it doesn't become too stressful, I won't send you back," Ami promises. "But if it <em>does</em>, I will. And I don't care whether or not you've got something to do with it. The least you can do is stay out of my way, and that much <em>is</em> in your power."</p><p>"Oh, I'm sure we can work something out long before it gets to be such an untenable situation," Zoisite purrs. He steps closer to her and bends to her ear to murmur, "To relieve your stress, as it were."</p><p>Ami pushes him aside before he can see her flush. "I have <em>work</em> to do," she says.</p><p>She gets to it and before long an hour has passed. Zoisite is still there. She checks in on him then to find he's appropriated her desktop computer and is playing Flight Fantasy Tactics under her account, ruining her top scores.</p><p>--</p><p>The final paper Ami writes for Dr Bennett is the easiest thing he's had her do, because it's not research, it's just summarising. She has less than she'd need for a publishable paper, but more than enough to satisfy the course curriculum. He skims it quickly and gives her a provisional A, then tells her to expect an exact grade within a few weeks. After this, it's applications and exams, and she's home free.</p><p>The light's at the end of the tunnel now, and she feels like she's getting a little of her control back. Ami's waning stress patterns means that Zoisite has been coming around less and less. That's great news for Ami in the short term, but doesn't spell good in the long term, because this is probably annoying him a lot. And when Zoisite is annoyed and put out and not getting his way, he'll lash out, and Ami has to be ready for that.</p><p>Whenever he's around she's on tenterhooks. One quick squabble could turn into a fight. Could turn into a kiss, or a fuck. Ami can't have that sort of distraction right now.</p><p>She wonders if she's starving him, like this. She wonders if she cares.</p><p>The next steps for medicine are a medical degree like the one Mamoru's getting. For that, she needs a standardised test, which she spent a year preparing for and which she'd written back in May. Her score was released in June, all before things got <em>truly</em> bad, so at least she hasn't had to worry about that this year. If she had, she'd truly not have been able to handle it.</p><p>Applications that need that score are due in this semester, though, and they're challenging, not because she doesn't have research experience (she does) or killer grades (she does) but because they require statements of intent and personal essays and references. Everyone she's ever taken a class with provides academic references upon her asking, which is nice (truly, they seem to expect it in the Biology department), but nobody can write her personal essays for her, or her autobiographical sketch.</p><p>Ami can put the time spent at Shimano Sushi, and nobody will look to see that she was employed legally, but it hardly shows character! The research looks much better, and not for the first time despite how hard it's been she's happy to have it. Still... she looks it over, and it all sounds so bland.</p><p>Is that really all I am, she wonders. A boring girl with her nose in books who studies all the time? No community-mindedness, not a lot well-rounded. Sure, her college has given her prizes over the years, and though they don't come with a lot of money attached, it makes for nice names under the CV. She wonders if she can figure out a way to get her video gaming in. It might be enough to make her different, make her interesting.</p><p>"Tell them you saved the world on multiple occasions from people like me," says Zoisite from the other room.</p><p>"I didn't ask you!" Ami calls back. And anyway, she definitely can't mention any of that.</p><p>Zoisite saunters over anyway, having set his Chocoro on fire and in so doing ruined Ami's progress in levelling up that particular mount. He reads over her shoulder though Ami tries to hide it. "Do you <em>mind,</em>" she says.</p><p>"I do, actually," he replies. He points down to a paragraph in her media engagement essay. "I mind <em>that</em>. Look, that doesn't sound very good. Instead of saying 'I would consider all sides of all arguments' like an idiot politician, tell them you'd present the truth as bluntly and honestly as possible."</p><p>"That's a terrible way to convey medical information to the public," says Ami.</p><p>"Well, if you want to be wishy-washy, that's your problem," says Zoisite, "but wishy-washies don't get into medical school, and more to the point, you humans are on average stupid animals, and any medical information that's disseminated with what could be doubt gets quickly overrun by more strategically-minded individuals."</p><p>That's ridiculous. "People want the truth when it's for -"</p><p>"Their own good?" Zoisite titters. "Darling, that doesn't get them very far in my experience."</p><p>"I was going to say their own health," replies Ami. His little pet names have begun to get on her nerves. They're at once patronising but genuinely affectionate, like he's humiliating her with a slap across the face and yet she's turning the other cheek. He must do it so that he can take the energy from that flash of irritation. She glares. "Your experience isn't very glowing. Why are you always so cynical?"</p><p>"Because I get something about this place that you don't," says Zoisite. "To profit you have to win. To win you have to be a little bit rude, and play a little bit less fair. The honourable fight is the one you win."</p><p>"That sounds like villain talk," says Ami.</p><p>"It should," replies Zoisite, "it <em>is</em>." He shrugs. "Take it from me, something snappy and bluntly honest will make it far; sounding like a scientist doing sciencey things will make the people who don't have that knowledge distrust you further. I understand distrust, Ami. In the end if your media engagement is intended to convey a public health message, you'll have to trick people into it, to make them think they're winning when really, they're doing exactly what you want them to."</p><p>Ami narrows her eyes. This sounds suspiciously like the way he manipulates her, but she can't see clearly how, just yet. "Go back to ruining my best scores," she says.</p><p>"Oh, I've already booted your account out of nine professional servers," says Zoisite gleefully.</p><p>But Zoisite is right about a few things - most notably that being clever and witty is prized over being fair. You can't make a point with compromise and concession, Ami thinks.</p><p>The next time Zoisite comes over to correct her essays, she doesn't push him away quite so quickly. Somewhere between his edits (tactless) and her original words (spineless), they arrive at a pretty decent place. Ami is reluctant to admit it, but they work well together.</p><p>--</p><p>Somehow, Ami finishes the semester with all her grades and her sanity intact.</p><p>The dreams have all but ceased. Zoisite is around only to be in her space and her company and then subsequently leaves again, and still neither his entrance nor his exit appears to be by his power or volition. He keeps his cruelty to a minimum. He keeps his flirtation to a minimum, too. It feels... it feels oddly like waiting for the other shoe to fall, and that's a form of stress, so Ami figures that must be enough for Zoisite to feed off of.</p><p>It still seems wrong to enable this. She should figure out what's going on, figure out how to fix it, or how to end it. The supercomputer shows up nothing. Scanning Zoisite is like scanning the pendant; the same readings, although scanning the pendant while Zoisite is physically out and about and helping himself to her stash of tea shows that the strange field strength that had been present dwindles to nothing. So the best she's got is that Zoisite <em>is</em> that field strength, and she sets the supercomputer to get as much detail as possible about it (which is a lot). It makes some sense. After all, in the absence of zoisite (or Zoisite), all that's left in the pendant is the black pargasite and the red ruby. But Zoisite can't appear to leave the apartment, or he chooses not to. And he isn't bothering her like he once did. If he is dangerous, he's not using his powers at the moment. Something has shifted, something has changed.</p><p>Cerebrally, Ami knows it must have to do with <em>that evening</em>, and that it would be worthy to dissect it a little better, see if somewhere therein there lies some secret to Zoisite's motivations.</p><p>Functionally, she prefers never to think about it. About what happened, about that whole day. And it's shocking how easy it is for her to compartmentalise one evening's total insanity into a little box that is marked 'things Ami would never do'. Ami would never fuck a Shitennou. Ami would never <em>lose her virginity</em> to a Shitennou. And Ami would never, ever fantasise about it, so she doesn't.</p><p>If she should look over at him, wondering, thinking about the way his tongue felt, the warmth of his touch, she can't guarantee that those thoughts are firmly kept to her and her alone.</p><p>Zoisite, too, has never brought it up since - possibly because he's concerned that if he does, she'll rethink her strategy on pitching him back at Mamoru. His tiptoeing around the subject is not quite as graceful as Ami knows he can be. But he seems to have recognised that he may have crossed a line.</p><p>He doesn't apologise for it. And why would he? He got exactly what he wanted.</p><p>(Only... only he didn't, because it caused him to disappear within the stone for some time.)</p><p>Ami doesn't need the pendant much at school anymore, but she can't say the same for work. Work gets her hackles raised and she's sure Zoisite's feeding off of that, but let him. The pendant is red-hot around Somsak, who is always there and has begun hovering around her and crowding her space; and mottled green around Ho Yan, who still hasn't hired anyone new. If there's no lecture after these shifts, and she goes straight home, Zoisite is always there, drinking her tea. At least this means the kettle has just boiled and she can head straight for it.</p><p>Zoisite isn't around the day Ami leaves for four weeks in Japan, and she feels like she probably should have mentioned it. He wasn't around when she purchased the ticket, he wasn't around when she packed a bag. Just the pendant is, on the drawer across the room.</p><p>Ami considers it as she's packing. <em>Should</em> she bring it with her?</p><p>It's possible that Zoisite has been waiting for her to leave to <em>truly</em> wreak havoc.</p><p>But what could he really do? Ami's been modelling a few situations using the supercomputer based on her observations from this past month, and none of them suggest that he has enough energy to remain corporeal for an extended period of time. Maximum a day. There's the possibility that he has some energy reserve, but even if she accounts for that, and the given amount of energy he may have received from the nonsense at Ami's work, that's not enough to really do much damage unless he's been stockpiling weapons. Using his own power takes energy as well.</p><p>Ami didn't need to bring it home last year, and she doesn't <em>need</em> to bring it home this year, either. (Frankly, she hardly needs to bring it around at all these days. More the reason it's possible to think of that evening as being a strange fluke.) If she left it here, would he still have enough energy? Would it deplete him? How far does this connection of theirs go, anyway?</p><p>She said she wouldn't bring him back to Mamoru. That's not a lie, if she keeps it here.</p><p>There is the possibility that it would keep Zoisite locked in there for <em>weeks</em>.</p><p>Well. He's <em>not</em> a good guy.</p><p>But he's been better than he was...</p><p>Only because he still thinks she'll send him back to Mamoru if he puts one toe out of line. That sort of control, dangling the power over someone like that, is exactly what Zoisite would do.</p><p>Consider it this way, though - if Ami brings it with her, she may have to explain where she got it and what it is, and there's only so much she can say and dismiss before it starts to sound like lying. Rei would sniff her out too easily. So would Minako, actually. Makoto might not ask too many questions, but the second Usagi sees Rei and Minako's senses piqued, she'll realise something's up. None of them are dumb, and Ami's not a good liar. Oh, for the sake of a little villainy - once in awhile.</p><p>In the end she packs the transformation pen and the supercomputer, and leaves the pendant, which currently is green and flecked with little red spots. That's a theory, she thinks - she should look into the exact pattern.</p><p>"You behave over the holidays," Ami tells the pendant. She locks the door behind her.</p><p>--</p><p>This time Makoto and Usagi can't meet her at the airport but Rei and Minako do. They're excited to see her and wallop her in hugs and her heart leaps for joy.</p><p>Doesn't mean they don't let her off for not having texted more often, but Ami tells them about her semester and her year and she's more giving with details this time, which they seem to take as a signal that she's come to enjoy it more. Which, she supposes she has.</p><p>"But everything's okay, right, Ami?" asks Minako.</p><p>"Because you know, you've been really silent." Rei's tone of voice is somewhere between gentle admonishment and actual concern.</p><p>"I'm sorry," Ami says, "you know I don't mean to be - just busy."</p><p>"We worry, that's all," says Minako. "Just want to make sure you're enjoying it. It can be hard to be all alone." She gives a half-smile. "Trust me, I know."</p><p>"And if you needed help," adds Rei, "you'd say so, right?"</p><p>"Of course," Ami says. "But everything's okay, really, guys."</p><p>And the more Ami thinks about it, the more she isn't lying or just saying it to make other people feel better.</p><p>She's <em>proud</em> of what she's accomplished this semester, more than she thought possible. Other semesters were her overloading herself with work in a way that enabled her to always be able to eventually access the right answer. Research is completely different, terrifying for that but worthwhile on its own merits. There are no right answers and you just have to trust that you're following a line of deduction and reasoning well. And where there is no reasoning, if nobody's done what you're doing before, sometimes you have to develop it yourself. You have to trust yourself. It's terrifying, but also an element of it is thrilling. The main hurdle is not to be too scared, and start early, so that you have the time to ask the questions, and the courage, too.</p><p>"Yeah," Ami says again. "Everything's okay."</p><p>--</p><p>The dreams ramp up again that night.</p><p>Zoisite has her leaned back, and he's between her legs, shoving himself inside, clutching her to him, pushing himself in and dragging himself out in a slow slide. And now Ami knows what that <em>feels</em> like and it can supply that exact sensation of the friction from his lovely long cock inside her. He holds her thighs apart with a bruising grip so he can get closer, push in deeper, connect them the way they <em>are</em> connected, link them the way they should have been doing all along. <em>Don't know why we abstained,</em> she says.</p><p><em>Make up for it now,</em> Zoisite says, in that taunting voice of his, <em>prove to me you want this, prove to me you need it like I do. Arch back and fuck yourself on me.</em> He reaches out and grabs her by the neck and tightens just enough to remind her of his strength. Then he slips his hand back to her hair and threads his fingers in it, takes a nice good hold, and yanks her head back.</p><p>Ami's curved now with barely enough ability to do what he tells her to but she does, canting her hips just so to meet his thrusts, get him a little bit closer inside her, fucking herself on him like she's desperate for more.</p><p>Her breasts stand straight out for him - they're naked, naturally - but Zoisite ignores them. With her neck exposed like this, he leans over and sinks his teeth into her shoulder, just like the vampire he is. From this angle he can't get much purchase, so it's little thrusts, where he's already deep inside her and delving deeper in small movements that frot the head of his cock against that part inside that makes her feels like she's been electrocuted, like energy courses through her, energy that he takes and takes. Until there's nothing left and skewered there as she is she feels herself start to constrict around his cock, flayed wide, fucked to an inch of her life -</p>
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</div><p>Ami wakes up, breathing hard.</p><p>Zoisite's connection to her must transcend their distance because it's roused her from sleep with a needy throbbing between her legs that hasn't felt this bad in months.</p><p>This is her old childhood bed in her old apartment with her mother!</p><p>Ami clenches her thighs shut to stave off the ache and rolls over on her side. In the distance, she can hear her mother snoring. Thin walls. But her mom sleeping on her back is always loud.</p><p>No, she can't possibly masturbate here.</p><p>Or can she?</p><p>She could do it. Her mother probably wouldn't wake up.</p><p>And she'd be very, very quiet. The meek little mouse Zoisite is always saying she is.</p><p>Doing very un-meek things.</p><p>(Oh, just the thought of Zoisite brings it all flooding back. His cock in her. The way he feels against her, the way he smells - human, as much as he disdains them, he <em>smells</em> human. His hair trailing gentle curls over his bare shoulders, over her bare breasts, spilled like he is on top of her.)</p><p>She licks her lips, sticking a hand down her panties, and spreads her legs wide. With a thunderous heartbeat, hoping her mother is still asleep, hoping her mother's hearing isn't very good even if she wakes - hoping she can keep quiet - Ami starts to stroke her clit the way she likes, the way Zoisite's tongue did.</p><p>This time Ami doesn't bother holding back - she doesn't think she could if she wanted to, and she doesn't want to. Freely she fantasises about it: Zoisite and her in the library after hours, bending her over and thrusting into her like it's nothing. She never wears skirts, but perhaps she wears one today, so that Zoisite can slip his hands up the hem like he did with her nightgown. Ami could sit astride him, straddling his lap with her back to his front, at one of the desks in the main study area, south of the stacks. And if they're very quick about it she'll bounce on his bare cock and fuck herself on it until she comes and nobody will be the wiser; and if they're not and someone does notice, Zoisite can simply claim he's her lab partner again. And this is very important studying they're doing, for Mammalian Anatomy 101.</p><p>Ami clenches her other hand into a fist when she comes, clutching a pendant that is thousands of kilometres away.</p><p>--</p><p>The dreams don't stop. Two days later her mom wakes her up from one thinking she's screaming.</p><p>"Was it the one where you have an exam you didn't study for?" her mom asks.</p><p>Ami nods, a little shakily. "That must have been it," she says. It was her and Zoisite in Shimano Sushi's bathroom after she's told her coworkers all to fuck off and used some Mercury Power to drag Zoisite forth from the pendant so he could pick her up like a sack of grain and rail her against the filthy wall until she's coming against his cock so loud her coworkers hear her, but close enough. "Was I screaming very loud?"</p><p>"No, no, dear," says her mother. "Screaming in dreams is like that, it's never blood-curdling. Sort of sounds like a low keening."</p><p>Oh - so Ami wasn't woken from her dream screaming, she was awoken from her dream <em>moaning</em>. She's mortified.</p><p>--</p><p>So Ami returns from Japan extremely pent up. The plane has a certain vibration and if she sits just right, she can work herself up to what feels like an orgasm, only different - her muscles seize at once, constricting inwards, and she sits straight in her chair as the shivers dance up her spine. She rides out three orgasms this way. Maybe it's not such a bad idea to do these kinds of things with Zoisite...</p><p>No, what is she <em>thinking?!</em> He's a villain and he's probably been doing this to her on purpose once he figured out that she <em>left</em> him alone in the apartment without any recourse for a month!</p><p>Even though he said he had no idea what caused it or how it worked.</p><p>Well, he probably lied. That would be just like him. And this way he could continue to siphon off her energy even when she's far away.</p><p>But Zoisite isn't there when she finally gets back to the apartment, after a full day's worth of travel. Just the pendant, exactly where she left it without having moved.</p><p>"Get out here," Ami says. "Come on, I'm waiting."</p><p>The pendant does nothing. She waves her transformation pen at it threateningly but it's as if the pendant knows she doesn't dare to actually <em>use</em> it, too concerned she might break the stone.</p><p>The pattern has changed. Three blotchy red marks, like a cow's spots.</p><p>"Whatever," says Ami. "Be like that, then, I don't have time for this. The library closes in four hours and I need to start another run for Dr Bennett." She scoops up the pendant and heads for her favourite haunt.</p><p>--</p><p>The dawn of the last semester. Dr Bennett is happy with her work - Ami has finally become able to read what happiness looks like on him, so the lows are easier to navigate. And Ami has fewer courses this term, only five and none of them have lab components. Of course, what that means is that Ho Yan asks for her more and more.</p><p>Zoisite still doesn't come out. The dreams don't stop but that's all she gets, apparently. Masturbation becomes a nightly routine, because every night like clockwork she finds herself waking up in a hopelessly aroused state, so if she wants any sleep at all, she's got to work for it.</p><p>Slowly the pendant grows redder and redder. Strange, she thinks, it's as though it's <em>reset</em> after her time in Japan, even after all these dreams.</p><p>--</p><p>Ho Yan, it turns out, has her reasons for not having hired anyone new, and it's because she's slowly working her way through a divorce and it isn't pretty or going well. Which - that sucks for her, truly it does, but Ami has bills to pay and doesn't want to work herself to death.</p><p>Somsak, meanwhile, grows worse, and worse, with little cruelties here, subtle cutting remarks there, giving her the worst tables with the least tips (and Ami doesn't care much but it's the principle of the thing, she knows he's trying to get under her skin), and everything piles up until a straw breaks the camel's back. In all the grand scheme of things Somsak has said and done, it's not all that bad. But there's been so much, and Ami is out of patience.</p><p>"Well, it's a good thing you're not dating anyone," he says. "It'd cause a hostile work environment."</p><p>"<em>Why,</em>" says Ami. She's uncomfortable having her dating life - or lack thereof - being under discussion in the first place, but she's oddly curious to see where this logic goes.</p><p>"Because everybody else is dating people except for me, and I'm sick of it! People should be more sympathetic to my plight and the plight of people like me everywhere."</p><p>"People like you?" she asks.</p><p>Somsak gives a halfhearted shrug and a response that sounds canned. "What can I say, female society discriminates against ugly men like me. It's about time I learn there's no hope and I'll die alone and unloved."</p><p>Yeah, good luck with that, thinks Ami. "That's unfortunate to hear you say," says Ami.</p><p>"It's just genetics," says Somsak. "And anthropology. I know a lot about it because I've been self-helping through youtube videos and this one psychologist has been great. I could explain it to you -"</p><p>Not this again. "Perhaps some other time," says Ami.</p><p>"Figures," Somsak says, scoffing. "See, this is what happens when I'm too nice. Postmodern neo-Marxists invented feminism and now women are all whores who like pieces of shit instead of good guys that will treat them right -"</p><p>"Ex<em>cuse</em> me!" says Ami hotly. Somsak seems to realise he's said something wrong but he doubles down. "It's not your fault," he mumbles, "it's just your genetics. <em>You'd</em> never have to work on yourself to get a boyfriend with that tight little ass."</p><p>Ami's ready to smack him but Ho Yan comes into the back of house. "Are one of you going to go out there and <em>serve</em> people," she says.</p><p>"Table 3's Ami's," says Somsak, "I'm going for a smoke break."</p><p>Table 3 has a regular church group who are invariably going to tip her 81 cents, or simply donate it to their congregation. But Somsak's already gone.</p><p>"Actually," says Ami, "<em>I</em> was promised a break an <em>hour</em> ago, and Somsak doesn't even smoke. Table 3 is Somsak's, he's simply mad at me because -"</p><p>"Yeah, I know why," says Ho Yan. "What do you expect?"</p><p>As though this is really Ami's fault! Ami snaps, just a little bit. "I expect some basic respect!" she says. "The same you'd give anyone, even if they're not working legally! Do you know what he's been saying to me these past few months? You're a supervisor, you should do some supervising!"</p><p>"Hey, you don't talk to me that way," says Ho Yan. "Smarten up or I'll dock your pay."</p><p>"He's been treating me like shit for some time now. And it's never gotten any better."</p><p>"With an attitude like that -"</p><p>"No, with an attitude that's <em>nice</em> I don't get anything, do I?" She never does. She never gets anything by being kind and calm and waiting! She's always had to work for her grades, and really, why should this be any different? It's just a surprise that it's work to ask for respect, apparently.</p><p>Zoisite was right, she hates to say it but he was right, at least about this.</p><p>Ho Yan frowns. "Are we going to have problems with you and him?"</p><p>"I don't expect to. I quit," says Ami. She turns in her apron and marches back out.</p><p>"You can't quit!" yells Ho Yan after her. "Hey - wait - no, look, I'll pay you more -" But Ami keeps walking.</p><p>She'll figure something out. She always does, and maybe Zoisite had a point too about Dr Bennett and the lab and whether they might have enough grant money to fund a stipend for a student. She'll be a graduate student very soon, only a matter of months, so maybe it could work out...</p><p>No, not maybe! It <em>will</em> work out because she's going to present her case in a logical way with a solid argument and she'll convince them! She's done great work for Bennett and the lab and she's a valuable researcher who knows her worth and knows that she's deserved some fucking respect! It may be work to ask for it, but that's work she can and should do.</p><p>Ami slams the door on her way in the apartment.</p><p>There's a slow clap from behind her.</p><p>"Well <em>done</em>, little Mercury," says Zoisite, stepping out from the shadows slowly. "I see you've learnt a trick or two. Of course, I'm happy to take all the credit -"</p><p>"<em>You</em>," says Ami. "You can get in the bedroom <em>now.</em>"</p><p>Zoisite freezes. This truly has baffled him. "I - what?"</p><p>Ami's not repeating herself. She reaches out, grabs Zoisite by the front of the uniform and hisses in his face, "You do that snap thing and get naked, do you understand me?"</p><p>Still in shock, Zoisite snaps his fingers, a little numbly. With him nude, Ami marches him into the bedroom and steers him towards the bed.</p><p>"Perhaps we should talk about this," says Zoisite. He props himself up on his elbows but she pushes him flat back against the bed again.</p><p>"I'm through talking," says Ami. She lifts her shirt over her head in one smooth movement. Zoisite isn't fully hard yet but his eyes are magnetised to the shape of her breasts in her bra. He evidently likes what he sees. "You've been giving me those awful dreams exactly like you did before, with absolutely no reason. I'm not stressed -"</p><p>"I beg to differ," Zoisite mutters.</p><p>"And everything is <em>finally</em> going well, but I can't get you out of my head and it's driving me insane! What's been causing all these dreams?"</p><p>"That depends," says Zoisite. "Why, what have you been dreaming about now?"</p><p>"This," says Ami, low and dangerous. She straddles him, pushes him into her, and sinks down with a sigh.</p>
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</div><p>It pulls a cry from him. He's too surprised to hold it back. Where is your little mouse now, she thinks. "Where did you <em>go?</em>" she asks him.</p><p>"Did - hah - did you miss me?"</p><p>"Parts of you," Ami replies. Certainly the part that splits her now. She twists her hips like she's imagined for weeks and is rewarded with the most heavenly sparks behind her eyes. Oh, she could do this for days. "Maybe only this part," she jokes.</p><p>But Zoisite doesn't pick up on the humour for once. His gaze upon her face is more cautious, the shock too great to be anything but sincere. "I, I thought - this was too far," he says, "I thought you'd genuinely give me back to him if we did this again." It's a blurted honesty and that's rare from Zoisite.</p><p>Instead of acknowledging that, Ami keeps grinding against him. It's too good to worry about that right now. She has to come - she <em>needs</em> to come, she's desperate and her patience has been on a razor's edge for so long. "Do I look like that's what I'm going to do?" she snaps. "I thought you were doing this because you needed the energy."</p><p>"That's what you always think of me, isn't it," says Zoisite. He almost sounds wistful. "You think I care only for your energy."</p><p>"Don't you?"</p><p>"Well, I care a lot for these," he says, reaching up to grab her breasts. He drifts one hand down her belly to reach her clit. "I care for this, too."</p><p>"Don't stop," Ami groans. "Don't stop this time, whatever puts you back there -"</p><p>But Zoisite is shaking his head. "I told you," he says, "I can't control it fully - ngh, that's - that's perfect - you're so fucking <em>tight</em> you little bookworm, riding me -" His hips have started to rock up with hers in a rhythm, and he strokes her faster, almost a furious, punishing pace, as though he's put out that she's taken such charge and that there's nothing for him to do, no way he can get one over her.</p><p>Still, he comes first, and his face is fascinating to watch. He contorts like it's delicious agony, his mouth hung open as he moans, and he grabs her by the thigh to shove her down onto him and keep her there as his hips tilt up in a final strained thrust.</p><p>Just the thought of that - how wrong it is, this is <em>Zoisite</em>, he's a <em>villain</em> - has her tightening around him as she grinds, making the exact drag she wants in and out until she's done convulsing.</p><p>--</p><p>Sex becomes their new normal, sandwiched between whatever minutes are found between Ami's new job with Dr Bennett (amazing how much money can be found at the end of a grant cycle that if you don't spend you won't get again; amazing how easily it can be given to an undergrad for a little bit of monotonous data processing), Ami's classes, and Zoisite's minutes outside the stone. They fuck to celebrate Ami's new job. They fuck to celebrate the end of exams. They fuck to celebrate when Ami's been admitted to the graduate MD program.</p>
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</div><p>Against the doorway to the apartment, people on the other side, as there's a party going on and people are having fun obviously but she's in on a Friday night, getting railed against the front door.</p><p>It's astonishing that Zoisite can, after all, lift her; he never seemed to look like much. But he can pin her down and pick her up by the thighs and step between her spread legs to push himself in and fuck her like that, thrusting up where he knows by now is the spot she likes best, nice and deep so that he's grinding himself against her clit, again and again until she's coming in aching waves of constrictions around him.</p><p>He's relentless and fills her, again, more, until his thrusts become manic. Then he reaches down and grabs at her, her clit between his thumb and index finger, rolling it slick between the soft pads of fingertips. On one deep thrust he stops dead, and, inches from her face, his eyes mad and alight with passion - he's very close now, she's come to realise that - he says to her, in a low whisper, "I think you can give me another, can't you, darling Mercury?"</p><p>Zoisite kisses her mouth sweetly like a lover should but pinches her clit like a scoundrel and she shrieks as she climaxes. It's so much, so intense, Ami scrunches her eyes shut and tries to hold on. She loses control and nearly falls; Zoisite is there to catch her. People can definitely hear her outside and he's twisting his fingers and dragging another orgasm out of her.</p><p>He keeps kissing her as he fucks her through it, though it's graceless, no artistry anymore to his skillful tongue. He's too far gone and he's groaning on every thrust as he speeds up and finally stills with a last sound, a plaintive helpless cry that he moans into her mouth as he spills inside. He keeps his eyes open. Damn, she thinks, he's won that one.</p>
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</div><p>"You still don't trust me," he says.</p><p>"Zoisite, you're a villain," she replies. The rakish grin he gives her in response is not exactly argument.</p>
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</div><p>He confides in her that in his liaisons with men he was rarely the one on the top, but they do try anal anyway. Zoisite makes it good for her, somehow, and there's something about it that even though she doesn't have the anatomy that he does, it's good, it's alarming.</p><p>He has her face to face and he slides in watching her. They get going, slowly so she can get used to the pace.</p><p>Zoisite has started to be slower in his pace, now, whenever they fuck. More possessive with his hands, now that he knows he's free to touch. More indulgent in foreplay, or so Ami figures. He likes kissing, and he's unfortunately very good at it. He cradles her face in his hands so gently as he slowly pushes his cock deeper inside.</p><p>The movement's the same, but the friction feels so much hotter. From this angle Zoisite can't get so close to her unless she spreads her legs <em>really</em> wide, and she's not really that acrobatic. Her cunt has never felt so achingly empty, her labia feel flushed and swollen with how aroused she is.</p><p>Then, as they're both getting close, Zoisite grabs the pendant and yanks it off her neck. "Like this," he says, urging her desperately, "fuck yourself on me. Show me how much you want me." He holds it to her clit, not moving, just holding it there, so that if Ami wants any extra stimulation she has to work for it and grind her ass down on his dick and up again, she has to move her hips <em>just so</em> to get it.</p><p>It's impossibly cold, the pendant. It should be hot because Zoisite is a firebrand in her ass and he's warm everywhere else, but it's cold and smooth as she frots against it, against his movements, until she's crying out, gripping him by the forearm as she comes hard, tensing taut, riding out waves she can't hope to survive, drowning in them. Zoisite pulses inside her and moans more loudly than she's ever heard him do yet. He sounds lost; he sounds broken.</p><p>--</p><p>"You were right," he tells her later, "I <em>was</em> taking the energy, it's the only thing I know how to do. So I made a problem for you and then I solved it. You'd have been better off without me, you know."</p><p>It's a cruel thing to say. Moreover, it's somewhat untrue, because at so many times throughout this nonsense that they've been doing with each other, Zoisite has liberally shown his hand to Ami. He's not that difficult to read, and Ami suspects he knows that, too. Giving her advice, such as it was. Telling her to pursue a job with the researchers instead of sticking it out with a terrible restaurant. Changing her just enough that she indulges her impatience once in awhile, in the right moments, to demand the respect she is owed. That's something that no one else has taught her.</p><p>Or, perhaps, the sex that has become slow and romantic. Tender, even, for a man who really isn't anything of the sort. Ami isn't sure where that's come from.</p><p>But that all means something, and Ami finds herself keen to discover it. "So all of this is just because you want out of the stone?"</p><p>"That's right," says Zoisite flatly. "I guess you could say I was using you. All this time."</p><p>That's the most preposterous thing Ami's ever heard, and she can't help laughing at him.</p><p>"Oh, come on, don't act like you really missed me, when I was gone," Zoisite says.</p><p>"I thought it was a terrible thing for you to be in the stone."</p><p>He shrugs. "I'm a man of my word," he says. "You told me to go away because you needed to focus and this wasn't helping. I'm sure that was it."</p><p>"Except that you never gave me your word."</p><p>"Well, fine, then!" Zoisite throws up his hands in exasperation. "I did it because it wasn't like I was getting anything out of you anymore from the more prurient aspect. You're not as prudish as you once were! I didn't do it for you."</p><p>He did, Ami realises. He absolutely did.</p><p>--</p><p>But it's not until Ami's graduation that she fully puts it all together.</p><p>Science hoods for medicine are green, so she wears the pendant, which began today as the same colour, to match.</p><p>She asked Zoisite whether he wanted to show up to the ceremony, and he gave her a non-answer, which in her experience has come to mean a replacement for something sentimental. Probably yes. But possibly no, if the pendant doesn't provide.</p><p>"Perhaps I'll see you in the crowd," says Ami.</p><p>Zoisite hardly looks up from Flight Fantasy Tactics. "If you say so, bookworm. This Chocoro won't kill itself."</p><p>The thing is...</p><p>The thing is that Zoisite really isn't a man of his word. But Ami had trusted him anyway. And the more she'd trusted him, the more she'd seen the pendant turn colour. Ami, who had trusted absolutely nobody - not her lab partners, not her friends, not even Mamoru - trusted Zoisite enough to fuck him. Moreover, she trusted Zoisite enough to get angry with him.</p><p>But that wasn't everything, because it didn't describe why the pendant turned colour before he appeared to her that first time. The more Zoisite showed some sympathy, some emotion - some humanity, perhaps, in his own strange, surreal way - the more the pendant turned colour. Sex, he claimed, worked for him as stress relief. It was also a perfect way to antagonise her, but eventually when that part of it stopped being so important to him, it must have seemed logical to him at the time. And only after he learned a bit more about her did he think to correct that. But the Zoisite of years ago would not have done any of those things. (At least, she doesn't think so.)</p><p>And so it dawns on her then: it never had to do with energy gathering at all</p><p>It had to do with whether Zoisite could learn compassion and Ami could learn trust.</p><p>In the time before the graduation ceremony, Ami sets a quick set of calculations to run on the mini supercomputer in her pocket, given a few parameters and everything she's learned about the pendant, Zoisite as an energy signal, and this new theory. They finish just as she's about to walk the stage, buzzing in her pocket to notify her of an answer. After the stage, she finds her hypothesis is correct.</p><p>The computer vindicates her, and she smiles. There's just one question, and that's whether knowing this will mean he'll stay out permanently.</p><p>After all, hasn't he learnt? Hasn't she? The waning stress patterns that she thought put Zoisite back in the stone were her not trusting him; not her starving him of energy. When he asked her not to send him back to Mamoru, he was asking her to trust him, and even if she felt a little manipulated into being more kind to him, kindness wasn't something she had to work on.

</p><p>Ami didn't trust him enough to take Zoisite with her over the holidays. Instead she left him in a place where she knew he wouldn't be able to do any harm, without trusting that he wouldn't, and it took him weeks to reappear.</p><p>And when he did, then she let him in, she let him fuck her, she let him put his hands on her body. Even once on her throat. His lips at her throat. His *teeth* at her throat. That was so dangerous. She bared herself for him, and that was trust.</p><p>"Ami!" calls a voice. Preeyada looks surprised to see her. "Aren't you a year early?"</p><p>Ami nods. "Summer courses, overloaded semesters," she explains. "Why are you here?"</p><p>"My brother. He must've graduated with you," Preeyada says. She points to Ami's chest. "Hey, neat pendant. I didn't know you had one in red, too."</p><p>"I suppose I do now," says Ami. After all, a quick scan with the supercomputer has shown no more trace of zoisite, not one fractional percent. She wonders what will happen if Mamoru ever asks for it back. But they'll cross that bridge when they get there; she can trust Zoisite to behave.</p><p>--</p><p>Off in the second floor landing of the convocation hall, Zoisite watches over as Ami chats with a friend. He smiles.</p><p>And if it's slightly coldly, no one has to know.</p>
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